


In death as in life

by ArtificialCatrina



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Prison, Blood, Blood and Injury, Domestic Violence, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, Violence, Weapons, cisgirl au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2019-08-17 10:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16515002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtificialCatrina/pseuds/ArtificialCatrina
Summary: Sharon Needles and Alaska Thunderfuck enjoy a life full of rotten pleasures as criminals in the city of Los Angeles. Their love my not be conventional, but after gunshots and blood, each other is all that remains.And they love it.





	1. The beginning of the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What we forget of our past might write our future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i hope i don't fuck up this idea bc i like it a lot! I HOPE YOU ALSO LIKE AND IF YOU DID PLEASE LET ME KNOW! any feedback is welcome! thanks for reading

_There_ _are_ _a couple of things you need to know about prison._  

_First of all: your trust must be erased._

_The people that seem nice, are not. Who seems trustworthy, is not. Your secrets are better in the bottom of your throat, keep them there._  

Alaska woke up minutes before the alarm loyally went off at seven a.m. The stupid alarm and stupid whines from her fellow prisoners who complained about waking up too early were her only company as she jumped out of the thin sponge covered with fabric she called her bed to the ground. 

Her cell was only shared with Adore Delano, who arrived two months before and Alaska had never properly spoken to (not because she didn’t want to but because Adore was well known for being as silent as a cadaver in her short time there), but somehow understood pretty well. Adore was young, adorable, and terrified by the world around them. If Alaska was her, she would shut the fuck up too. 

At least Adore could keep some quiet. If Alaska had the same noise she heard outside in her cell, she would have gone crazy a long time ago. Adore woke up with a small yawn and after nodding at Alaska, walked out of the cell. 

From there the morning went smoothly. There was still some room in the showers for Alaska when she showed up. After getting the first shots of hot water in her body, she took a towel and an orange jumpsuit that smelt freshly clean. As a plus, the cafeteria wasn’t as crowded as it usually was. She took advantage of her early waking to grab an apple and sit on the last table of the room, far away from the door, where the trouble couldn’t reach her. 

Alaska considered herself a little bit of a watcher. The chaos could be funny when she didn’t participate on it directly. Her prison life was turning out more relaxing than she had thought three years ago. 

She had taken the third bite of the apple when a fight started on the line for food. It didn’t last too long; just some bones crackling. A small puddle of blood remained after the screams and cheers. 

“What a beautiful sight we have here! Don’t you agree, ladies?” 

Yekaterina Zamolodchikova showed at the door when a guard carried an injured prisoner outside. She looked incredibly delighted for such an early hour and had stepped on the puddle, walking directly to Alaska’s table as she happily greeted everyone she saw on her way. Some girls smiled back, other just rolled their eyes, but she kept going. 

“Crazy bitch,” Alaska muttered, lips tight as she hid a smile. 

Katya was one of the few things in prison that reminded Alaska that happiness still existed. That or a very serious mental illness, whatever that made Katya act like she did, Alaska didn’t care that much. It was almost impossible to believe she used to be in the Russian mafia. 

“Dear Alaska,” she cooed as soon as she sat at the table. “How are you, princess of long blonde hair, this morning?” 

“Bored,” Alaska snorted. “You? Not that much, for what I see.” 

Katya grinned as fast as anybody else would have frowned, palming Alaska’s shoulder playfully. “How can you be bored?! Everything is so charming around here... but you’re right, dear Alaska. I’m not bored. Actually, I’m very pleased.” 

“May I know why?” 

“The new girls, Alaska! New girls!” 

Alaska gave another bite to her apple, not sharing her excitement. “And? They arrive every first Monday of the month when other girls are transffered.” 

“I think we have a special one this time,” Katya nodded. “Hear me out: you know there are two buses who carry the girls to their unfortunate destiny, in other words, here. Right?” 

“Right.” 

Katya leaned to Alaska’s side, thick accent whispering in her ear. “One of them started a riot in a bus.” 

She pulled away, biting her lip. Alaska stayed still. 

“So?” 

“So?! Really?!” she desperately gasped. “Fame was crazy with that new!” 

“Fame is easy to impress. She’d die for a new brand of tampons in the restrooms,” Alaska assured. “That’s no golden secret nor a new, Kat.” 

“Whatever, you good-times-ruiner,” Katya pouted and cleared her throat. “I wanna be there when they arrive. Would be great to know some new meat, don’t you think? To know what we have in store.” 

Alaska shrugged. She rarely saw the new girls. The last time she did was because she was tired of being alone and Adore was with them, crying from the moment she stepped into their cell until Alaska looked at her and muttered  _live and let others live_ , silently promising her there would be no problems between them. Maybe this time Alaska would get to know someone who actually spoke, unlike Adore, but not as much as Katya. 

“It can be entertaining. Yes. I’ll give you that.” 

“Then come with me!” 

For a second, Katya seemed to have a good idea. Was Alaska even dreaming? When did her crazy Russian friend start having good ideas? 

“You know what? I will.” 

- 

 _Second thing: stay away from the trouble that has nothing to do with you._  

 _Don’t play the fucking hero, believe me; it’s_ _gonna_ _turn against you_ _._  

- 

“You’ll need more breakfast than an apple. You’re so thin!” 

“I’m just fine.” 

“But what if you faint?” Katya questioned, beginning to panic. “Alaska, I’m not that strong to carry you around! What if I faint too?” 

“Why would you even faint?” 

Before Katya could give a coherent answer (coherent? Ha!) the main door of the common room that connected the prison with the administrative area finally opened and two guards heading a line of girls with orange jumpsuits entered. Alaska and Katya had waited there for around an hour. Usually, the new girls would arrive at ten or eleven in the morning, but it was almost twelve when they showed up. The riot in the bus was probably the one to blame. 

The rest of the prisoners gathered around, forming a circle around the new ones, watching like the vultures they were before the guards checked the area and told them to pull back. Alaska stood beside Katya at the door; the best option to watch was, as usual in prison, to not get too close. 

“They’re boring,” Katya complained in a whisper when she finished eyeing all she cataloged as  _new meat_. 

Alaska continued scanning the new ones. Some of them looked scared: completely normal, others looked lost: normal again, two girls crying? Poor things, others tried to look serious: they could pull something better off... Alaska’s eyes stopped in the last girl at the line. Her curly blonde hair was displayed as a mess on her shoulders and forehead, which didn’t let Alaska read her, until a guard un did the handcuffs that restrained her and she turned around. 

Then, Alaska realized it was useless. She couldn’t tell what the girl was thinking, nor even imagine if she was scared or not, her face didn’t show anything. The only motion her face did was blinking. 

Alaska frowned. How was that even possible? 

“I don’t think they’re boring,” she opined, sighing. “Look at the last one.” 

“Oh. She’s hot,” was the first thing Katya decided. “And mysterious... is it normal if I’m getting kind of horny looking at her?” 

“That’s gross,” Alaska rolled her eyes. “Focus. How does she look like?” 

“Like...” Katya kept her mouth open, cluelessly hoping Alaska would answer her own question. “Okay, I give up. How does she look like?” 

“That’s the thing: she doesn’t look like anything,” she explained. “Look the rest of the girls, all of them scared or trying to already set up a plan to escape, but she’s just standing there.” 

The guards took assistance of the girls in line. A hand raised when a name was said, the last one, who Alaska waited patiently for, belonged to Sharon Coady. 

“Of course, you’re right...” Katya trailed off back to look at the girl, still not understanding very well. 

Unlike her, a knowing smile passed across Alaska’s lips. “Isn’t that interesting?” 

“If you say so,” the Russian happily shrugged. “Anyway, I vote for us to go and talk to her. She’s still hot.” 

Alaska found herself agreeing with Katya for the second time in the day. 

However, when they were about to approach the line, the guards indicated the prisoners to clear the room. Apparently, the new girls were not going to be taken to their cells yet, and they had to stay there while the other girls from the second bus were brought. As weird as it sounded, everyone obeyed and the bus riot seemed the one to blame again; some prisoners were already whispering around about it. 

Alaska and Katya decided to spend their wait as they usually did in their free days (or everyday) in the library, where Alaska kept a stable job organizing books from Tuesday to Friday. She didn’t need the money; she had created her own ways to get everything she needed in there, but the distraction was good. Katya had no job since her family outside had the enough money to send her the millions and millions of treats she asked for, but liked to hang out in the library anyway; that was her distraction. 

They walked into Alaska’s empty work space. Katya jumped to sit on the counter and smiled brightly. Max, one of the other girls that worked there, seemed to not mind it. After all, the library was never crowded, and she took advantage of the sudden company to share the new that the library would get remodeled to Alaska and Katya. Apparently, according to Max, there had been a mysterious donation to the prison for nearly a million dollars. 

Katya smiled excitedly, looking at the several books shelves around her. “What are we reading today, Alaska?” 

Before she could reply, a harsh voice made Alaska roll her eyes and turn around. A guard stood on the door calling her; “Honrad, come here for a second!” 

Alaska handed Katya the first book she saw, mouthing  _I’ll be back in a minute_ with a smile to calm her, and walked over the guard with arms crossed over her chest and eyes narrowed. 

“What do you want, Willam?” she questioned, sounding bored. 

“Hey. Watch your fucking mouth,” he hissed, leaning forward so nobody could hear him. “I’m a guard and you’re a convict, do I have to remind you?” 

“Do I have to remind you that you lost that power a while ago?” she innocently smiled but any sign of happiness soon faded. “Just make it quick.” 

“Only wanted to make you know your package arrived this morning with the new girls. Some bitch tried to riot in the other bus so I took it to the kitchen to avoid complications,” Willam looked around to check the perimeter one more time. “It has all of your taste. Honestly, I think I nailed this one.” 

“That’s definitely good to hear,” Alaska nodded, relaxed. “Thanks, Willam.” 

He placed a firm hand on her shoulder before she could walk away. “Wait a minute. How is Courtney?” 

The fact his voice changed into a tender one wasn’t lost on Alaska. 

“She’s doing fine.” 

“You’ll need to be more specific.” 

“She has a lot of shit to deal with right now, okay? She has tons of medicine and tests to do right now, but she’s fine.” 

“Has she asked for me?” 

Alaska sighed. “No.” 

His face fell immediately. “Not even once?” 

“Sorry, Will.” 

Willam nodded, almost trying to assimilate what he just heard, before walking away. Alaska stood at the door for a second, only to make sure he was going in the correct direction –away from the library– when something caught her attention; two convicts were running to the other side of the almost empty corridor directly to the door that headed to the common room. They passed by Alaska’s side without even looking at her, laughing and talking so fast it was almost incoherent, but one thing of all was clear for Alaska. 

“I can’t believe Coady slapped the shit out of someone!”

Alaska didn’t have time to process how they did know Sharon’s name, it was enough for her to storm back to the library, her eyes immediately looking for the Russian.

“Kat–” 

“I heard them!” her friend was already on her feet. 

She nodded at Alaska, and both of them started running at the same door. 

As they went through corridors, they could hear cheers and screams intensifying, the noise mixing with Alaska’s blood running in her ears thanks to the harsh beatings of her heart. Something was happening, that something involved Sharon somehow, and that something had to be serious. 

It had to be serious by the way the convicts surrounded the entire common room, some of them climbing into chairs and tables to get a better view of whatever was happening in the middle. Alaska analyzed the situation, and after deciding getting a chair was a waste of time, she started making herself some room between the hot bodies of her fellow convicts by pushing them around. 

After a couple of squeezes, they made it. The middle of the pandemonium was not disappointing at all. Katya gasped when she saw Sharon pinning another girl– blonde just like her, but visibly shorter, to the ground, raising her firm fist to deliver a punch right in her temple. 

“Oh my god!” Katya shook Alaska by her shoulder. “That was right in the head! Fuck, is she a boxing champion?” 

Two guards achieved to grab Sharon by her arms, dragging her away from the other girl. Alaska grimaced when she risen from the floor and lifted her knee to kick Sharon’s stomach on a fast move. 

“Seems like they’re both boxing champions.” 

“I’m not sure you can do that in boxing,” Katya admitted. 

Somehow, Sharon’s voice could be audible through the noise in the room; “You are dead, Aquaria! You are so fucking dead!” 

The threat fed even more the crowd, who by far was cheering for Sharon. She managed to slip out of the guards’ grasp and ran again to the girl, throwing her entire body towards her. They fell and rolled on the floor, blindly punching each other until in a desperate attempt to separate them a guard grabbed Sharon by the leg and, under the crowd’s screams, dropped her on the floor. Sharon had barely time to squeal and whimper for the sudden motion when Aquaria had thrown another fist to her cheek. 

“It’s enough!” a guard stated, taking Aquaria’s shoulders to drag her away from Sharon, who was already being taken by another guard. 

“My ankle!” Aquaria cried, still on the floor as she grabbed her leg. “Is injured, I can’t walk!” 

“To the nursery,” the guard decided, gesturing to other two guys to carry her. 

Sharon protested, blood fell down her nose. “She beaten the shit out of me too! Don’t I get to go to the nursery as well?” 

“If you can walk, then no. To confinement.” 

Sharon swore under her breath, struggling with the man behind her grabbing both of her arms forcefully, trying to make her walk. 

“Aquaria, be aware that I’m gonna kill you when I fucking see you!” 

The response she got was Aquaria’s smug smile, her teeth covered in blood. “I’d love to see you trying it, Shazzy.” 

In the moment Aquaria was carried out of the room and Sharon dragged to the confinement cells, the fun was over; every convict ran as fast as they could out of the common room, afraid some guard would catch them. Alaska wasn’t afraid of that; Willam was also there, and he would always make sure she was fine. Katya stayed too for some reason. 

“There’s nothing to see here, ladies!” Willam stated to the few convicts that remained on the room, nodding at Alaska when nobody saw. 

“The first day and they’re already killing each other,” Katya giggled, but stopped when she realized Alaska was absent, thoughtfully looking at the spot where Sharon and Aquaria were looking for each other’s guts minutes before. “Alaska? What’s going on?” 

“Remember when I said I thought Sharon was interesting?” 

“Yep.” 

“I still think it.” 

“But Alaska, she almost killed that girl!” Katya frowned. “And we don’t know anything about her.” 

“That’s something I can solve.” 

“How?” 

“You’ll see,” Alaska smiled. 

- 

 _Third thing:_ _do favors. A lot of them._  

 _At some point, if you know how to_ _play_ _properly, they’re_ _gonna_ _be really useful for you._  

 _The power over a person starts with a debt_ _._  

- 

Beatrix Mattel’s office was always cold. Cold and extremely organized, with items of different shades of pink that always matched Ms. Mattel’s blazer. There was a couch and a desk with an warn-out old leather chair behind it, two wooden chairs in front, shelves full of files beside it and walls full of diverse paintings and pictures of Ms. Mattel with her family, friends, college degree. It was almost bragging. 

Alaska  _hated_ that office. 

As usual, Beatrix received her with a tight smile and a nervous gesture for her to sit in front of the desk. Alaska could almost smell her despair from her place. 

“Well, hm, miss Honrad, tell me, what brings you to my office?” was the first question that she made. Alaska always kept track of them, only to see how they went from desperate to too-much-desperate. 

“There’s no need for formalities when the door is closed,” Alaska leaned back on the chair. “We know each other too well, don’t you think, Trixie? Formalities are completely unnecessary.” 

Trixie gulped. A drop of sweat was about to fall down her forehead. 

“Fuck’s sake, Alaska, just tell me what you want!” she snapped. Her knuckles went white for grabbing the edge of the desk too hard. “Stop fucking playing!” 

“You’re not in the position of saying that, Trixie,” Alaska remained calm. “I like playing, I think it’s very fun. It’s a shame you don’t think the same.” 

Trixie let out a shaky sigh to steady herself. 

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just busy and I’d love if you just told me what you need.” 

“That’s better! You definitely look prettier with manners,” Alaska couldn’t help but smirk. Why was it so funny? “Anyways, what I need is extremely simple, so I trust you’ll be able to help me immediately.” 

“Tell me.” 

“I need to know about a convict. Name is Sharon Coady. She arrived today.” 

Of course, it didn’t matter that Alaska had requests for Trixie almost every day, that one still made Trixie tilt her head in disbelief. 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” 

Trixie shook her head. “No, no, no. I can’t do that. You have never asked me to do that before! I can’t do it. Part of my job is keeping the files exclusively for use of the government or administrative area of the prison.” 

There was a small pause. Alaska pouted. “You didn’t seem to care a lot about your job when you fucked with my friend Katya. I bet the administrative area wouldn’t like to know one of them slept with a convict.” 

Her voice was full of pity. Trixie’s eyes watered. 

“Alaska, please. You said you wouldn’t tell anyone.” 

“It’s a simple request, Trixie!” 

Alaska knew she wouldn’t last too long. 

“If I tell you everything I know, do you promise you won’t tell anything?” 

 _Bingo._ Alaska nodded, looking comprehensive. Finally, after considering it, Trixie sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. 

“Sharon Coady has a lot of charges, starting with consume of drugs and alteration of public order. She was famous for fighting with everyone after a party when she was under the effects of cocaine... but that’s not why she was brought here. She... she tried to kill her husband.” 

“Tried?” Alaska’s eyes narrowed. “Mean she failed. But even if she did, those charges are enough to category her as violent and send to an observation area.” 

“With those charges and reputation, she should be in maximum security for the rest of her life,” Trixie sighed. “But that’s the point. Her husband, the richest man you can imagine, paid for her to be here. Apparently, he still loves her.” 

“Even if she tried to kill him?” Alaska breathed a laugh. “Love sucks.” 

Trixie looked nervously around before speaking again. “Are you aware of the remodeling to the library?” 

Alaska nodded, frowning in concern until the hint seemed to hit her. 

“No fucking way. Sharon’s husband paid for it?” 

“He did.” 

“Nearly a million dollars?” 

Trixie hummed positively. Alaska could only whistle. 

“That’s a lot of fucking money.” 

“And that’s not all. He paid for everything. Any guard can’t touch a simple hair of hers, she’ll have everything she wants here including food and personal items, and her charges for drugs and violence were dropped.” 

“Why?” 

“I was in the court when it all happened,” Trixie explained. “At the end, she acted as she regretted all of it, you know, squeezing his neck with a scarf. She cried and called him baby until the session was over.” 

Alaska didn’t say more, taking her time to process it all, with a small smile still remaining on her lips. 

“What do you know about a girl called Aquaria?” she asked after a pause. 

“I know about someone named Aquaria who arrived also today,” Trixie rushed to turn on her chair and take a pale green file. After checking the name on it, she handed it to Alaska. 

 _Aquaria Coady_ , read the cover. 

“I’m gonna take this,” she raised the file. “To read it calmly. Meanwhile, your men took Sharon to confinement, and unless you want her husband to sue the entire prison you better get her out of there.” 

Trixie nodded wordlessly. After all, what could her words change? 

- 

 _Fourth thing: who cares? You’re_ _gonna_ _fuck it up anyways._  

 _I say it because I fucked up myself._  

- 

It was almost five p.m. when Alaska saw Sharon walking through the corridor. She was out of her cell, back against the wall, trying to enjoy her free time just like the rest of the convicts did until Sharon appeared. Some of them winced of fear, turning to the opposite side, walking away, whispering about how Sharon had broken Aquaria’s ankle earlier, except Alaska. 

Sharon stopped by the wall of Alaska’s cell, exactly at the other side of the closed set of bars that worked as a door, and leaned back just as Alaska did. 

“Everyone seems to be afraid of you,” she hummed, trying to achieve her greeting to look less harsh. 

Sharon replied after a minute. “Do you think they’re right?” 

“It depends. Are you gonna break my ankle?” 

For the first time since Sharon Coady had stepped into prison, she smiled. 

“I didn’t break anything. Aquaria is a pussy, she has always been,” she simply said, turning to get a better view of Alaska. “I’ve seen you before, when–” 

“When they took you to confinement?” Alaska filled for her. “I was there. By the way, how did confinement treat you?” 

“Too small cells and too many stupid guards and too much silence,” she snorted. “I thought here it would be better but nobody wants to talk to me... I guess I shouldn’t have started my first day like that.” 

Alaska smiled. Sharon sounded so relaxed, she seemed to be talking about middle school, not prison. 

“I don’t care about your first day,” Alaska stated, making Sharon look up directly at her. “If you want...” 

The offer remained in the air for a moment before Sharon would nod. 

“I want.”


	2. Everybody wants to rule the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Power tastes so good once you try it... but could it even be dangerous?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WROTE THIS BEING REALLY ILL and watching some action movies witch gave me a little inspiration for this one. i really hope you like it and if you did pls let me know! thanks 4 reading

“And that’s how we met,” Alaska finished. 

Violet Chachki and Pearl Liaison looked attentively from their seats. 

“But, but,” Pearl interjected, shaking her head. “It’s not all clear to me. Why was that guard doing so many favors to you? And who was Aquaria?” 

“Why did you hate Trixie so much?” this time was Violet asking. 

“You ask too many questions,” after yawning, Alaska sounded bored. “Those are stories for other days, kiddos. We’re working now.” 

“Except Aquaria,” from the other side of the seat, cigarette in hand, Sharon clarified. “Don’t mention her ever again, it’s not worth it.” 

“But did you break her ankle or not?” 

Sharon shot Violet a look that made her forget the question and shift in the seat, facing the window. 

Alaska giggled. A black file remained on her lap, and at the sudden silence in the limousine, she decided to take another look at it. The name Dela Crème was on the cover, on the first page a picture of a young woman with shiny black hair and a small smile. It wasn’t the kind of picture you’d find in that kind of files, being known they were mainly for prison governmental use, but a picture that someone took in their free time. Besides the blue sky and grass in the background, which told Alaska the picture was annexed after the file was created. 

“What you thinking of?” 

Smoke was blown directly to Alaska’s neck. Sharon had leaned on her shoulder to see the file, whispering so none Violet or Pearl would listen. That didn’t seem to be a problem anyways, judging by how the two younger women were looking at the window and excitedly speaking between them. 

“This file is weird,” Alaska whispered back. “This woman doesn’t look like she had been in prison.” 

“Right. She looks more like the protagonist of a cooking show,” Sharon agreed, and snorted seconds after. “But, Alaska, we were in prison in Philadelphia. Not Los Angeles. We don’t know all of them.” 

“And yet we should,” Alaska closed the file. “Even if they look like the worst crime they’d commit would be bad cutting of grass in the suburbs and not stealing an USB that values for millions of dollars.” 

Sharon smiled, but said no more. 

The rest of the trip was silent. Alaska studied the file for a little longer as Sharon finished filling the limousine with smoke, Violet and Pearl giggling about the new city around them. Sharon tried to remember if she and Alaska had been that excited about arriving to Los Angeles years ago, but she couldn’t bring herself to remember anything. Or course, they were excited, but more for getting out of prison that for actually going outside of Philadelphia, and they definitely didn’t look like tourists. 

At some point the limousine stopped and the sliding glass went down. The driver Sam, sunglasses and fedora covering the mayor part of his face, turned to them. 

“Ms. Thunderfuck, Ms. Needles, we’re here.” 

“It’s show time,” Sharon sighed. Before pulling out, she nodded at Alaska. 

“Good luck,” Pearl said, her tone deadpan. 

Violet gestured for Sam to start the car when the door finally slammed. 

- 

“I imagined this lady living in a more... proper way.” 

The first thing Sharon and Alaska noticed when they stepped into the apartment building was the milk boxes dropped on the floor, empty lobby and mold covered walls, windows with no glass that let the room feel even more heated thanks to the exhausting sun outside, along with an elevator with doors that looked unsteady enough to get stuck between two floors. 

“This is fucking gross,” Sharon replied, somehow achieving to dodge the boxes at her feet. “Tell me she lives in the second floor, I refuse to use the elevator.” 

“Close,” Alaska clicked her tongue. “Third.” 

The staircase was just as damaged as the rest of the building, but not enough to fall down with their weight. As Alaska looked for the door with the numbers 046 on it, Sharon watched over every single corner; according to Bianca, at this time the building was completely empty, but they knew a simple witness could fuck everything up. Sharon’s hand was firmly placed on the pocket of her jacket, where her gun comfortably rested. 

Alaska’s voice made her turn around. “Found it,” she announced, gesturing at the last door in the corridor. “I’m going in, you stay here in case someone passes by until my signal, okay?”

”Are you sure you can get her alone?”

“Just do as I say, would you?”

Sharon shrugged and positioned herself obediently beside the door. “Take care,” she finally instructed. 

“I always take care.” 

Alaska offered her a little smile before entering. The door was open with a key Bianca had given them the day before, and Alaska disappeared behind it, her own gun in hand and leaving Sharon alone in the big, desertic corridor after the raw squeak of the wooden material. She waited two, three, four and even five minutes, biting down on her lip in an impatient wait for Alaska’s signal. 

Behind the door was silent until there was the echoing of a punch, probably against something solid, and Sharon’s heart jumped from the fright. Then a scream and a whimper that definitely did not belong to Alaska. Whispers, something being dragged across the carpet and things being dropped, glass smashed, furniture moving came next. Curiosity was killing her, but she trusted Alaska, knowing she could control everything. Only waiting was left. 

The signal, three knocks in the door, finally came. Sharon entered the same room in a fast motion, her eyes burnt everything in their way looking for Alaska. And there she was, as beautiful as she could only look, in the middle of a mess that the apartment was (books on the floor, clothes everywhere, food and every personal item misplaced was Alaska’s personal watermark), next to the very same woman Sharon had seen in the file before. The lady’s hands were tied behind her back to the chair she was forcefully sitting, the other part of the ripped black cloth that kept her tied working as a gag. Alaska stood proudly beside her work, but what captured Sharon’s attention was the red waterfall falling down the lady’s forehead. 

“No way...” she looked at Alaska, who could be only as excited as she was. “You did that?” 

“I did. The best part is that my hand didn’t hurt this time. Sharon, I’m training again this week, it’s finally paying off.” 

“I knew you could do it,” Sharon praised, walking over to give Alaska’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

Alaska grinned before Sharon leaned in to kiss her deeply. Inside their small bubble it seemed like they had forgotten Dela Crème was still tied, bleeding in front of them... but she could wait. Where could she go anyways? 

The woman squirmed and tried to raise her legs, gaining a kick directly to one of her knees by Sharon. 

“Stay the fuck still,” she hissed, and looked at Alaska by the side with a grin. “Shall we start now?” 

“I’d love to.” 

Alaska carried another chair from the small destroyed kitchen and sat in front of Dela, so their faces would be at the same level, and sighed heavily. It seemed like the more Alaska’s smile grew, the more sweat would fall down Dela’s face. 

“Hello, Dela. I’m Alaska. You know, I’m sorry we had to drop by just like this, sometimes we can be a little... harsh. Excuse the mess,” she giggled. “I’d hate to be you afterwards, cleaning is not my cup of tea.” 

Dela moved furiously, desperately trying to free herself as she tried to speak, her attempt coming out as a muffed whimper. 

“Aw. That doesn’t sound so good,” Sharon cooed with pity. “What did you say?” 

“Oh, sure!” Alaska sat straight. “Silly cloth, I can’t listen anything you say! Sharon, could you please remove it from our friend Dela’s mouth?” 

The moment the cloth was free from Dela’s lips, she managed to lift her head and spit directly to Alaska’s eye. In the motion, Sharon took Dela by the neck, making her lean back into the chair. 

“What a fucking brat,” Alaska cursed under her breath, rubbing her eye with her sleeve. “I don’t think you want to start like this.” 

“I’m not telling you anything!” Dela spat. 

“Who said we wanted anything you have to say?” Sharon questioned. She could feel Dela’s shoulders tensing. “I think you know exactly what we want.” 

“We heard you stole something from a friend of ours. And believe me, Dela, this friend is livid,” Alaska explained; voice low, almost as if she was speaking to a kid. “If you give us what we want, we might just walk out of here like nothing has happened, we can make our friend happy and you can go back to cleaning this mess. Everybody lives happily ever after with that.” 

A blood drop reached Dela’s cheek. She snorted, tightening her lips. 

“I didn’t steal anything! I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she looked hysterically over her shoulder to Sharon. “I know Bianca sent you. Tell her I didn’t steal anything, I’m not a traitor.” 

Sharon pulled her hand inside the other pocket of her jacket, grasping a cellphone. She took a couple of minutes to look for something when a noise filled the room. 

“ _Shangela_ _, I know this is not right– but I have to do it. Bianca has already enough money to life for the next fifty years. I have nothing! She won’t miss it. I promised you a good life and that’s exactly what I’m gonna give you_ ,” it was Dela’s voice coming from the phone. 

She gulped hard. Alaska smiled. 

“Was that you, Dela?” 

There was no answer. Sharon’s hand formed a fist full of Dela’s hair and she pulled from it, making Dela yelp. 

“She asked you a question. Aren’t you gonna answer?” 

“I think Dela just lied to us,” Alaska announced in a pity voice. “I have to tell you Dela, we don’t like lies. Right, Sharon?” 

“Damn right.” 

“Now, I bet you don’t wanna know what happens to the ones who lie,” Alaska leaned forward, and forward, until her nose was touching Dela’s. Her voice was going lower and lower until it was barely a whisper. “But that’s not my thing to show, as you must have guessed earlier. That’s Sharon’s thing.” 

Dela’s eyes snapped open in fear. Alaska stood up, leaving the chair to Sharon, but staying loyally on her side. 

Sharon’s head tilted. Dela closed her eyes for a second; her heart was beating so fast it felt like it had stopped, which seemed to be funny for Sharon. She smiled smugly, almost predatory, leaning into Dela, Sharon’s calm breathing crashing into the little stains on blood on her jaw. Pressure was applied on Dela’s side. When she looked down, the tip of Sharon’s gun pressed against her stomach. 

Dela blinked a couple of times, her chest bouncing in a desperate attempt to breathe normally. “I’m not scared of the stupid gun Bianca gave you,” she spat, although her voice shook, ruining her lie. 

The gun stopped being pressed into her stomach; Sharon had handed it to Alaska. 

“She’s not scared of my gun,” she hummed thoughtfully. “Then I won’t need it.” 

Sharon’s hand pulled into her pocket again, slowly, her hand blindly searching for something specific judging by the determined way it moved. Above her, Alaska didn’t even blink. Dela couldn’t do more than switch looks between them and curse, in despair, how relaxed they looked. 

Sharon held a small object in front of her. At first, Dela couldn’t see it very well; Alaska had smashed the bottom of her own gun in the side of her head a couple of times when she broke in, and the blood loss although had mostly stopped, started making her dizzy. But then her vision tunneled and the object went clear. There it was, standing proudly on Sharon’s hand, a beautiful pocket knife of a shiny metallic blue with a near blade that slipped out easily and black lines as details at the sides. How could something so pretty be so harmful? 

“Who gave you access to Bianca’s archives?” Alaska suddenly asked. Her voice had lost any flash of playfulness it had before. 

Dela looked from the knife to her face within seconds. “What archives? I never heard of them,” she grumbled. 

Sharon looked up at Alaska for a moment, her eyes going back to Dela soon after, scanning her entirely. “Wrong answer,” she decided. 

There was no warning, no time to react, no way to protest. Sharon’s hand didn’t even tremble, wrapped tightly around the knife, pressing the blade into the skin of Dela’s collarbone. Not close enough to her neck to create serious damage, just enough to create a thin dark line from which started emerging small red drops above her chest. Dela jumped, squirmed, screamed as she tried to sneak away, but it was no use. Alaska was already beside the chair to hold it in place. 

“I’ll ask again, and I hope you answer this time,” Sharon announced, pulling back. “Who gave you access to Bianca’s archives?” 

Dela threw her head backwards, her body shaking as her face twisted in pain. 

“Who was it?” Alaska insisted. “It had to be someone who worked with Bianca as well, but who was it?” 

The knife had approached her skin one more time when Dela screamed so hard her lungs started burning, just like the fresh mark on her chest. 

“You don’t have to do this! Please, let’s just talk about this, I’m sure we can get to an agreement!” 

“Another wrong answer...” 

The second cut accompanied perfectly the first one at the other side of Dela’s chest; two horizontal lines just underneath her collarbone. Although Dela kept shifting on the chair, Alaska’s hands were firm on her shoulders, and Sharon’s precision was flawless. The blood was slowly making its way to her shirt. Dark red liquid that for others meant life, in that moment meant nothing that an obstacle in research for information, and neither Sharon or Alaska cared to spill a little of it. 

In fact, they seemed to enjoy it. Alaska didn’t have chances to watch chaos as often as she did in prison, but when she did, it felt just like the first time. And now that she could take control of something, as small as it was fucking with Dela’s mind, it made her heart’s beats fasten with excitement. She didn’t have to wait to bother Trixie, the sweet secretary that had committed a huge mistake. Of course not; she could to whatever she wanted with whoever was put in front of her. 

Sharon found it was one of the little pleasures she could allow herself to do. Even if her lips stayed in a firm line, she couldn’t help but let shivers run down her spine every time Dela screamed, knowing she caused that scream, that pain, that harm. The power felt amazing once you got used to it; and you could squeeze it as much as you wanted between your fingers, because it had no other place it would go. Sharon knew it perfectly– and she loved every second of it. 

“Nobody gave me— nobody gave me access!” Dela cried, her eyes shut. “Oh, fuck, I promise you nobody gave me access!” 

Alaska and Sharon exchanged knowing looks. Alaska stopped tensing her hands over Dela’s shoulders as Sharon leaned back on her chair; only two cuts were needed to break Dela Crème. 

“How did you get the USB?” Alaska questioned. 

“I stole the key to Bianca’s room from her purse! Nobody helped me!” Dela choke. “I really needed money! Bianca wouldn’t let me borrow– I was desperate!” 

“Do you still have it?” asked Sharon. 

“No! I don’t,” Dela answered, tone soon steadying into a weak whimper. “But I can tell you where it is... if you promise me you won’t kill me.” 

Sharon held her hand out with a smile. “You have my word,” she claimed. 

- 

Sharon and Alaska left Dela Crème’s apartment around an hour after. Alaska slammed the door on Dela’s motionless body, still on the same chair, with her hands still tied behind her back, dried blood and a thin layer of sweat still covering her body, but what was different this time was the river of blood running down her chest from a thick line on her throat. 

“She should’ve imagined I was gonna kill her anyways,” Sharon scoffed. 

She poked her head out the staircase to check if someone was there, gesturing for Alaska to go ahead when she saw the lobby was still empty. When they were done, the sun still lit every single corner of Los Angeles, the intense light came inside the building through every broken window. 

“It was kind of obvious,” Alaska laughed dryly. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I need a drink... or two. Maybe more than two.” 

“I could have a drink now as well. I hate these stupid jobs, I feel like Bianca’s message woman.” 

“You were amazing there though,” Alaska rushed to assure. “You always make them speak, no matter what.” 

“It’s a natural talent,” replied Sharon with what seemed the beginning of a smile. 

Another car was already waiting for them. This time a discreet one, for their good luck; a Jeep with the same driver as before, the serious yet comfortable Sam. He nodded as a greeting and started the car when the last door closed. 

“Ms. Del Rio told me to give this to you,” Sam turned to the back seat when the car stopped in a red light. 

His arm extended with a phone on it, a call on speaker showed on the screen. Alaska took it with no hesitation. 

“Yeah?” 

“ _It’s good to finally hear of you, assholes. Did you forget to call me?_ ” Bianca barked through the line. “ _Jesus, for a second I thought you two were fucking dead. You have no idea how it feels. I was scared!_ ” 

“It wasn’t necessary to call you,” Alaska interrupted. “Everything went well.” 

“ _Oh, everything went well? Everything will go well when you two start following my orders!_ ” she exclaimed. “ _I fucking swear. At least tell me you got the USB_.” 

“We didn’t; Dela didn’t have it in the apartment, and we checked everywhere. But we know where it is,” Sharon added before Bianca could reply. 

“ _Wait a_ _second. Didn’t have? That’s past tense. What the fuck did you do to that woman? Jesus Christ, you killed her?_ ” 

“You care that much?” Alaska questioned. “You shouldn’t have sent us then.” 

“We had to kill her. What else could we do? Wait for her to kill us instead?” Sharon snorted, “I thought you were the first one to understand hard methods.” 

“ _Needles,_ _Thunderfuck_ _, don’t be naïve,_ ” Bianca sounded surprisingly pleased. “ _I knew you would kill Dela, that’s exactly why I sent you. Now c_ _ome over so we can discuss what_ _we’re g_ _oing to do_ _next_ _, okay?_ _Good job_.” 

“Good job?” Sharon mouthed in concern. “Did she just say good job?” 

Bianca ended the call just when they shared a confused look. 

Sam turned again. “To Ms. Del Rio’s place?” he asked. 

“Yes, Sam,” Alaska sighed. “Thanks.” 

- 

Bianca Del Rio’s place was something that neither Sharon or Alaska had put effort into understanding. It was a mansion an hour outside of Los Angeles; in the deep of the forest, to the opposite side of the highway, in the middle of an empty land that could only be reached if you knew the property by heart, a modern structure was found. It was surrounded by a black fence that opened within seconds when Sam pulled the car over. He parked around the huge marble fountain, in the middle of a garden with exotic flowers that no one would ever believe exist, just beside other five cars that also were for use of Bianca’s people. 

The place was breathtaking, of course, but they had learnt that any good could happen between those walls. 

What they called  _the meeting room_ was easy to localize; after the expensive staircase that parted in two different areas of the house, after the living room, in the other side of the corridor that headed to the kitchen there was a beige door that other days played as an innocent basement. 

Violet and Pearl were already there when Sharon and Alaska crossed said beige door. Sitting on a side of the long table, that along with its chairs, was the only thing in the room, their heads lifted at the door being open. 

“Hey,” Violet nodded at them as a greeting. “How was the visit to Bianca’s friend? Was she...  _dying_ to see you?” 

Pearl giggled at the attempt of joke. 

“Another word and I’ll turn you into my human punchbag,” Sharon barked back, and it was Alaska’s turn to giggle. 

“I think Bianca already told you,” she guessed. 

“Of course I told them!” 

Bianca always made her entrance particular. It wasn’t impossible to not look at her with her floor length velvet dress that usually could be seen worn by ladies in their forties in casinos, hair pulled up in a complicated ponytail adorned with a hairpiece that could be bigger than Bianca’s head, and of course, as many expensive and exotic jewelry as she could find in her room hanging on her ears and neck. 

The door would stay closed until the end of the meeting. Bianca closed it firmly behind her and sat at the other side of the table, gesturing for Sharon and Alaska to take their usual seats in front of Violet and Pearl. 

“I had to tell Chachki and Liaison,” Bianca’s raspy voice echoed in the almost empty room. “I had to brag about how much I know my girls.”

“This doesn’t make any sense to me yet,” Alaska suddenly interrupted her happy aura. “Why didn’t you just tell us to kill her?” 

“I had to prove you, as simple as that. I knew you’d get rid of Dela as soon as you got what you wanted,” she explained. “And I imagine you got it... right?” 

Sharon nodded. “Dela sold the USB to the owner of a casino called Velvet Sky, the name is Sasha Velour. According to Dela she didn’t know what was in the USB but insisted to buy it anyways... they met because Dela visited said casino a lot and Sasha thought they could be friends. She saw the USB in her purse and put a price on it. Dela thought Sasha might knew she worked for you and that’s why she wanted the USB so bad.” 

“That’s music to my ears,” was Bianca’s response. She sighed thoughtfully, leaning back on her chair. 

“Do you even know who Sasha Velour is?” Pearl raised a brow. 

“No, and it’s not necessary. Ms. Velour and I will be introduced very soon.” 

“And what are we gonna do now?” Violet deadpanned. “We have to get that USB back before this month ends, right?” 

“You sound weirdly relaxed, Rel Rio, considering you’re always a nervous fuck,” Alaska noticed. “Is there anything you want to tell us about how we’re gonna get back that USB? Because as far as I know, it contains information of all of us.” 

“I won’t go back to prison, Bianca,” Sharon warned. “That fucking USB must be in our hands before something really fucked up happens.” 

“We’ll get it back. Of course, we’ll have it back just in time, you don’t have to worry about it,” Bianca sounded sure. “Needles and Thunderfuck right here just gave me everything I needed to know that I’ll get back what’s ours. For now, what we’re going to do is focus on our place at the market and make sure everything is fine for now. We don’t want any complications with our clients.” 

“And then?” 

“Then we need to get ready,” Bianca sat straight on the chair. Her open hand slammed on the table to accentuate her words. “We’re going to Velvet Sky.” 


	3. Forgive who you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, reunions with someone from our past is the best surprise we can receive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!!! hi everybody i'm sorry i was suposed to post this days ago but i had some trouble with school and stuff (i still got trouble with school lmao but i'm doing great!) i hope you really like this chapter, THE PRISON CHARACTERS AND FLASHBACKS ARE BACK! OF COURSE THEY ARE! just to spoil a little, i'll say that the prison characters are a BIG part of the rest of the story so we're seeing a lot of them! PLEASE ENJOY AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU DID!

Alaska and Violet were given orders to stay together in a four-hours shift in Bianca’s cellar. 

Matter of fact, her cellar was still a mystery for her  _employees._  All they knew was that the place was located away from Bianca’s property in a desolated part of California, in some part of the generous forest that couldn’t be localized from the highway and only certain people could approach, since only a few could keep track of the difficult way. It looked just an abandoned building on the outside so it would distract anybody from what happened in the inside; simple, but very useful. 

It was barely midnight when Bianca’s people arrived to start an inventory of boxes that would be sent to different parts of the world the next day, whose Alaska and Violet were told to watch over during work. It felt boring at the beginning, when Alaska didn’t know what was inside those packages and thought that Bianca was nothing but a business woman, but with time she realized that those packages were definitely not boring... and there were people that would pay a fortune for drugs stuffed inside different discreet objects like vases or luxury purses.

Alaska was calmly doing her usual walking between the maze of piled boxes in the main room of the cellar when Violet’s voice echoed through the metallic columns. 

“Thunderfuck?!” 

Her voice was firm but somehow full of urgency at the same time; something bad had definitely happened. Alaska rushed her way through the boxes to the end of the room where she had seen Violet before. And right there she was; as elegant as she always looked, with her hand harshly pinning a man against the wall by holding his throat with her fingers so hard it started leaving white marks and her elbow pressing on his ribs. 

“What’s happening here?” Alaska inquired. 

The man stared blankly at her, babbling in despair to try and say something, but Violet’s grip was stronger. 

“This little bitch right here was trying to steal one of the packages,” Violet explained, not even turning to look back at Alaska. “What should I do?” 

For being her first time getting someone caught, Violet was nailing it. Alaska could feel proud somehow; Violet leant in six months what she leant in years. With a simple smile, she shook her head. 

“I’ll leave this one all to you,” she decided. “Do as you please.” 

Violet’s eyes shined for a second. “I have never... done... it.” 

The man under her hand squirmed but it was useless; the lack of air was slowly but surely knocking him off. Alaska laughed at her insecure tone, completely opposite to the way she held him. Violet saw as Alaska pulled, carefully saved in the pocket of her jeans, a flash of metallic green that soon became a small knife. 

“It’s easy, kid; I’ll show you.” 

A memory came to Alaska’s mind with those exact words. 

- 

 **Three and a half** **years before.**  

 _It wasn’t weird that Friday nights at prison were boring. If you stop even a second to think of it, you’ll realize that every second at prison is boring; Alaska knew it perfectly._  

 _Maybe the only thing that she didn’t consider boring was when Sharon snaked out of her cell and visited Alaska. Once the lights were off, it felt like the prison was only to themselves; everybody else seemed to be far away, or simply disappear. That night was no exception. After the guards counted every convict in their cells, Willam left the set of bars that separated Alaska’s cell from the rest of the corridor open and nodded at her before leaving._  

 _Sharon showed up only minutes after the lights were off. As a routine, she made sure the corridor was empty before tip-toeing inside and carefully climbed to Alaska’s bed above Adore’s, ignoring her sleeping body._  

 _Alaska would have lied if she said she wasn’t already waiting to see Sharon’s silhouette, sitting eagerly on the edge of the bed, legs balancing freely._  

 _“Hey,” Alaska whispered when Sharon finally joined her._  

 _They greeted in a sloppy kiss under the comforting thick darkness of the room. It was their messy way of celebrate after not seeing each other for several hours (since dinner if we’re being specific and which they both agreed it was almost an eternity of time) that finished when they parted for some air._  

 _Knowing that Willam was covering them was a relief. They could calmly lie down, looking at nothing in particular through the darkness, but feeling each other’s presence over the thin sponge that Alaska called bed was more than enough, they knew._  

 _At some point of the discreet visit Sharon stopped saying whatever anecdote about her day that she didn’t tell before and got up on an elbow._  

 _“Can I ask you something?”_  

 _Alaska looked up, frowning as she found strange the sudden interruption, but nodding shortly anyways. “Sure.”_  

 _“Have you ever killed?”_  

 _The question came with no warning and no explanation afterwards neither. Alaska thought it was funny, how she had been accused for a lot of things, but with never a murder under her belt._  

 _“No,” she simply replied. “I haven’t. The only thing I’ve killed are ants in my old house.”_  

 _“That’s cute,” Sharon breathed a laugh. “_ _Have_   _you thought of doing it?”_  

 _“You’re talking about murder, Sharon. Not reading contemporary novels,” she commented, or mocked, trying to make a joke out of it that worked since Sharon’s smile became bigger. “What is this heading to? You know you can tell me anything.”_  

 _Matter of fact, Sharon knew she could tell Alaska anything; maybe that was the problem._  

 _“Would you kill for me?”_  

 _Under the darkness, surrounded by cold walls, this other question seemed just as out of context as the first one. It made Alaska giggle in a mix of concern and remained joy._  

 _“What?”_  

 _“I would kill for you,” Sharon assured, but har_ _d_ _ly achieving coming out_ _as_ _lovely_ _as she seemed to want_ _. “If you asked.”_  

 _“Of course you would,” Alaska_ _almost accused_ _. “You would kill for anybody, especially for yourself.”_  

 _Sharon rolled her eyes, but_ _didn’t_ _deny it._  

 _“Okay, it happens that I have a problem._ _.. with someone._ _There’s this lady, Robbie, who I share cell with and has been a bother since I arrived_ _._ _I wanted to take care of her tomorrow, but that secretary Trixie is making me going to therapy to control my anger,” she grimaced in distaste. “_ _So_ _I thought that you could... take care of her for me._ _”_  

 _“You mean get her out of the way.”_  

 _“Exactly that._ _It’s not that hard, is it?”_  

 _No, of course it didn’t sound that hard. Coming out of her lips like that, it even sounded innocent. Alaska found herself considering it._ _Was_ _it_ _really hard?_  

 _“Honestly, I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not like you, I can’t just break someone’s neck with my bare hands. What if I fuck it up? I don’t want more years_ _on me_ _, Sharon.”_  

 _“It’s easy!” Sharon’s hand pulled into the pocket of her orange jumpsuit, taking out a small green_ _knife that shined even with the pale light that came from the corridor. “I’ll show you._   _You just point the knife to the ribs and move it like t_ _his. See? It’s actually pretty simple.”_  

 _The knife moved in her hand so naturally, pretending to pull into an invisible body above it, as simple as if she was cutting a piece of cake_ _, which had to be the kind of thing that made Alaska giggle at such a late time of the day_ _._  

 _One way or another, Alaska knew how that_ _innocent, simple, small_ _request would end._ _She started thinking maybe Sharon had something that made everyone unable to tell her no. That or... maybe Alaska just liked the way Sharon smiled and her eyes lit up every time Alaska said yes to everything she asked for. Any of those two were definitely going to be a problem for Alaska._  

 _“So?” Sharon’s finger twirled around a blonde strand of Alaska’s hair. “Tomorrow at the showers, there will be no guards. Are you_ _gonna_ _do it?”_  

 _She pulled of the strand, not very hard, just enough to make Alaska smile._  

 _“I_ _will do it_. _”_  

- 

“Like this?” 

Violet held the same red pocket knife in her hand. Trembling, she pressed the tip against the man’s stomach. 

“A little more to the right,” Alaska instructed, and Violet listened immediately. “That’s great. Now just do it.” 

The rest of Bianca’s people remained working, taking a second to look over their shoulders to the scene happening before them, a silent reminder of what would happen if they ever disobey... that they had seen a million of times before, but still made shivers run down their spine. 

With the firm grip on his neck, the man had already turned his eyes white, but that didn’t hold him back from whimpering from pain when the knife went through the fabric of his shirt all the way between two of his ribs. Again, and again, the only sight Violet had was the blade coming out of his body every time she slid it out, breathing heavily as she did. 

Finally, his body fell into the ground, followed by a red river. 

“Fuck, this is gonna stain the floor, we should’ve thought about it before,” Alaska noticed with distaste. She raised her hand to draw the attention of another young guy walking by. “You, clean this up before Ms. Del Rio arrives.” 

But far away from the daily situation, Violet was in a deep trance. Eyes lost in the motionless body in front of her she still held the knife, so hard her hand started to cramp, until Alaska walked closer to lovingly stroke her hair. 

“C’mon, kid, we still have work to do.” 

Violet woke up with a loud sigh, blinking a couple of times as she took composure. She wiped the blood off the knife with her skirt before handing it back to Alaska. 

“Your knife is pretty.” 

“Thanks. It was a gift from Sharon, actually,” she thoughtfully commented in response. “She gave it to me in prison after I did a small favor to her, as a gift or something. Later she got herself a blue one...” 

“So they match,” Violet filled for her. Alaska nodded, smiling. “That’s very cute. You should tell me prison anecdotes more often.” 

At the proposition, Alaska could only laugh. 

“If you wanna know about it so bad we can think of a way to get you in there.” 

Violet’s eyes snapped open in surprise. She shook her head eagerly. “No, nope, not at all, I’m fine just like this.” 

“Then shut up and let’s go back to work.” 

- 

At four a.m., Alaska’s shift had ended, but she knew her work wasn’t done. She changed the red dress she borrowed from Violet for black leggins and a hoodie of the same color, gathered her stuff calmly and waved at Violet on her way out, promising to see her at Bianca’s meeting at night. 

She stood outside for what seemed two minutes before an old truck stopped in front of the cellar’s main driveway. The window slid down slowly revealing Sharon’s steady face hiding behind her sunglasses, lips painted dark. 

“Get in, we’re going on a little ride!” she exclaimed over the motor’s growls. 

Alaska climbed to the passenger seat quickly. The first thing she noticed when she closed the door was that, of course, the truck was as dirty on the inside as it was on the outside. The thick smell of cigarettes and alcohol burnt her nose, the seat felt like a rock against her back, not mentioning the weird-substances stained floor that restrained Alaska from moving her feet over the sticky surface. The second thing she noticed when she ran her hand beside the door was that there was no seatbelt. 

“Where did you get this thing?” Alaska finally dared to ask. 

When she turned to Sharon, she seemed to be in her element, happily keeping her eyes glued to the road. She dressed ready to work, with a black leather jacket over a grey hoodie and simple jeans that couldn’t be recognized easily. 

“I asked Bianca if we could go on our own today and she said yes, but the only available thing Sam had was this baby,” she explained and tapped the board. “I fell in love with it. Really, this feels like real love.” 

“Great. Just when I thought everything was good, a truck turns out to steal my girlfriend,” Alaska half joked, half complained, crossing her arms over her chest to avoid touching anything. 

“I can be twice in love,” Sharon proposed, smirking when she saw Alaska rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re better than a truck.” 

“What a compliment,” Alaska ironized. 

Sharon took a second from the road to lower her hand to Alaska’s lap, rubbing affectively her leg. “The best part of this is that Sam said Bianca wouldn’t need it anymore so it’s all mine. Just picture it, I’ll take you anywhere.” 

“You’re keeping it?” Alaska decided to ignore the last part. “Sharon, this smells as if a rat would had thrown up right in my seat.” 

“Maybe it happened,” Sharon shrugged. “Sam said the truck had been in federal custody for two years since some guys were murdered in the back, so who knows what happened in here.” 

Alaska bit her lip to contain a laugh. Of course, Sharon was the only person in the world who would like such a truck, and Alaska couldn’t help but acknowledge the warm feeling in her chest by seeing her so excited. She could stand the smell and a few stains in her clothes for that feeling. 

“Are you gonna clean it up at least?” she inquired, sighing in defeat. 

“Well, I don’t want you to smell like rat’s puke...” Sharon got trailed off back to drive in the middle of the sentence, but Alaska didn’t say a thing. 

For the first time since she got in the truck, Alaska took some minutes to analyze where they were. Sharon had taken a way through the center part of the city, mixing into the few trucks and trailers with publicity signs on them that made their way at night as she moved the heavy truck between the buildings in Los Angeles. Alaska’s shoulders tensed immediately; taking way too close to the most crowded part of the city was a well-known risk. 

“Sharon?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Where are we going?” 

“Look under your seat, Lasky.” 

Alaska obeyed wordlessly. Under the seat, already stained with something that looked brown, there was a black file just like Dela’s, but this one had the name on the cover written over with black marker so it couldn’t be visible. 

“What is this?” 

“I personally hate giving messages from Bianca, but I saw this file and thought that you maybe wanted to do this yourself,” Sharon kept her sight strictly to the front. She added, before Alaska could open the file; “Don’t open it yet.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s a surprise,” was all the explanation needed for Alaska to do was she was told. “We’re getting a drug dealer and I know these pretty well, so we have to be careful and quick. Also, this person is sneaky as fuck so it has to be done at the first try.” 

Alaska nodded, glad Sharon had time to plan everything out while she was in the cellar. “What’s the plan?” 

“We’re stopping at a parking lot. I’m getting out, you stay here and start the truck at my signal,” just as she spoke, the shiny sign of Walmart appeared in their sight. “I called them and said I’d buy something, I’ll get them closer to the back of the truck so carry them inside won’t be that hard.” 

“Are you sure you can do that all on your own?” Alaska questioned. 

“I could do it with a hand tied behind my back,” Sharon assured, grinning. “It’d be fine, just make sure the truck is out of the parking lot in time.” 

“Are there any security cameras?” 

“Not yet, the store opened this month. That’s why a lot of drug purchase takes place right here: it’s perfect.” 

The entrance for the empty parking lot was wide open, with no guards at sight and the only sign of life inside, along with the closed store, being the public lightning. Sharon drove to a corner away from the entrance and turned the motor off, turning at Alaska. 

“Ready?” 

She responded with a firm nod. Sharon didn’t waste time; she tied her hair up in a fluffy ponytail and hid it under her grey hoodie, adjusting her unnecessary but loyal pair of sunglasses. She then sighed, pushing the door open and jumping out of the truck in a fast move. 

Once she was out, Alaska crawled to the driver seat, quickly placing her hands on the steering wheel and keys, ready to start the motor. Sharon was still visible from the rear-view mirror, standing at a side of the truck, there were still no signs of whoever they were chasing. 

The file remained in the passenger seat. Alaska stared at it for a second, thinking about opening it and finally discovering who they’re going after, but got rid of the idea shaking her head. Any distraction could be dangerous, especially if Sharon was out there alone. She would wait until they reached Bianca’s house. 

Minutes passed in infernal silence. Alaska had sighed more times than she had meant to, glancing at Sharon while she shifted to one foot to another under the single light in the parking lot. 

The pace was suddenly broken when heavy steps started their path from the entrance to the truck. Sharon stood straight as Alaska pressed her fingers around the keys. The objective was walking directly towards Sharon, with their face also covered by a hoodie, the only flash of color in their dark outfit being a strand of golden hair falling from the hoodie to their shoulder. From her position, Alaska could only guess it was a girl. 

“Hello,” Sharon nodded shortly once they were close enough, lowering her voice so it couldn’t be recognized. “Got what I want?” 

The girl smiled under the hoodie. A small plastic bag was pulled out of her pocket, with a decent amount of white powder inside. She shook it in front of Sharon’s face with the smile completely untouched. 

“I got it.” 

“Great. Here’s your money.” 

Sharon held her hand out with some bills at the same time the girl held the little bag out. From that second everything happened too quick for Alaska to notice, as Sharon took the girl’s hand, forcefully pulling her closer to lift her knee and kick underneath the chest. 

The girl stumbled due the sudden motion of air being pulled out of their body but that didn’t stop her from pulling Sharon’s neck and slam a fist desperately on her face, the motion being messy, which told Alaska that the girl definitely did not know how to fight. She shifted in the seat, trying to control the urgency of help Sharon; it was obvious that a few punches were nothing, at least not for her. Alaska knew Sharon could stand that and even more. 

The entire truck shook when Sharon took the girl by the shoulders and slammed her body violently against the back of the vehicle. After a raw  _crack_ , the girl gave in and fell on Sharon’s arms. 

Carrying her in just one arm was difficult, but Sharon achieved to open the door and throw the body inside the truck. With risks in mind, Sharon had to think of everything before, which made her think that putting some duct tape and cord on the truck would be a good idea. And it was. She took the cord to restrain the girl’s hands and ripped a big piece of tape to paste it around her mouth. Thinking of it, she looked like she wouldn’t wake up in a couple of hours, but there were too many risks already. Sharon took more cord to assure her legs together and placed a bigger piece of tape over the first one. 

The signal that Alaska had been waiting for was a couple of knocks in the door of the back of the truck; she started the motor with a strong growl. Seconds after Sharon climbed into the passenger seat with a huge stain of blood on the grey fabric on her chest. Alaska felt relief heading to the exit. 

During the trip, they found themselves in the middle of a comfortable silence that was only interrupted by the sound of something being dragged behind them; the body moving with every corner Alaska passed. 

“Are you gonna tell me who’s in the back?” she suddenly asked. 

Sharon stopped analyzing the stain in her clothes to shrug. “It’d be better if you find you once we’re at Bianca’s. I promise, it won’t disappoint.” 

Alaska only nodded. Judging by the sign on the highway above the truck, Bianca’s place was only half an hour away. They passed by trees and buildings and some houses, even a suburban neighborhood that looked exactly as a dream. Then Alaska understood why Sharon had picked that truck; in the weirdest schedule, at such satanic hours of the morning nobody would suspect of a vehicle like that in the streets, since it could be from literally anywhere. It was the perfect camouflage.

-

After the hardest part of the way, which was the forest they had to cross in order to get to Bianca’s house, they arrived. Alaska turned around the house to the driveaway, where Violet and Pearl were already waiting, Bianca sitting on an elegant garden chair behind them. Sharon got out first, she nodded at the three women and guided them to the back of the truck as Alaska turned it off. 

Sharon stood beside the door. Bianca shot her an impatient look and complained, “Needles! Be quick. There’s a new episode of Judge Judy that I have to watch,” but she insisted to wait for Alaska. 

“Why is this so important and why do we have to be here?” Violet questioned, huge dark bags under her eyes indicating she hadn’t sleep enough since her shift at the cellar. 

“Are we gonna see a cadaver?” in a curious, somehow excited tone, Pearl asked. 

“We better not,” Violet whined. “If they killed someone, I’m not helping getting rid of the body. I just did my nails.” 

“What a shame, princess. We wanted you to get rid of the organs, they’re all over the truck, the lungs are really ripped out,” Sharon mocked, grinning with satisfaction when she realized Violet had grimaced with disgust in response. 

Alaska walked over with the truck keys twirling around her fingers, totally unaware of what her absence caused. Sharon gestured for her to place her hand over the door, in the same spot hers was before. 

“Do the honors now, Alaska,” she instructed. 

With the truck’s age, it was hard to open the door at first. Alaska had to pull really hard and push it with both feet firmly placed on the ground, having to stand the metal creaking and wondering how Sharon had done it so easily before. Behind her Bianca, Violet and Pearl made a small line, glazing at the door in curiosity. 

When Alaska finally opened the door, the body inside was revealed into the pale light of Bianca’s outdoor lamps, and Alaska understood everything. She understood why the girl seemed to be terrible at fighting, why she hid behind a hoodie, why she was blonde, why she was now kicking and desperately trying to get free from Sharon’s cords. 

Alaska understood everything. 

The girl squirmed over the dusty surface and whimpered when her scared eyes locked with Alaska’s. She didn’t look as confident as she did before. Smiling playfully, Alaska decided to rip the tape out of her mouth in a fast motion, making the girl scream in pain. 

“Alaska?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg WHO do you think is on the truck? i wanna hear some theories lmao thanks 4 reading!


	4. Burn the page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sneaking away from a dream is never a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> personally, i loved this chapter! we finally see a little bit about sharon and alaska's past life and things even older than that! i hope you like it as well!! PLS TELL ME WHAT U THINK!

Training early in the morning was one of the few things Sharon remembered enjoying as a teenager that now was one of the few pleasures that she couldn’t deny herself. It was almost perfect that Bianca kept a beautiful and strong punchbag in one of the extra rooms of the mansion, being known that Bianca Del Rio never approached a thing that had to do with exercise, and that she let Sharon entertain herself with it all day when she had no more work to do. 

It was almost seven a.m. After installing their new guest on one of the separated rooms in the basement, when the sky went clear, she had gone directly to train. 

Soft white wraps were tied tightly around her hands to create a comfortable layer between the skin and the shiny red boxing gloves. Her fists felt heavy but at the same time so easy to lift. Punch after punch was delivered to the black bag hanging from the ceiling, moving only to Sharon’s face for a second and then back to the bag, all in a rhythmic routine. 

Years ago the motion used to sting and left dark marks on Sharon’s fingers that she would rub for weeks, but now the pain felt refreshing... almost like a relief. Those very same marks would be nothing but reminders that Sharon did well and she was strong. Most importantly, stronger than anybody else. 

The room started feeling warmer. The air felt so hot through her shorts and sport bra. When Sharon looked through the only window in the room to the backyard, to the freshly watered plants and pale sunlight just rising, she realized the heat was stuck in her skin. Her ponytail was now tangled and pasted with sweat to the back of her neck, the sticky liquid also falling down her entire body as drops. 

She stopped, growling and balancing herself a few times looking for equilibrium before holding onto the punchbag. Her chest was quickly blowing up and down just like a balloon as a product of her heavy breathing. 

“Sharon?” 

Maybe Sharon was too deep in her own world to realize the moment Pearl had opened the door. Or the moment she had stayed there, head shyly poking into the room. The only response Sharon was able to give in her state was a snorted laugh and nodded to indicate Pearl she could step in. 

The platinum blonde stood by the door as Sharon steadied herself. Once she could stand without clinging onto the bag, she started to lose the gloves until she could pull her crampy hands out. Stretching her fingers, she slowly walked over the only chair in the room, placed the gloves over it and took the towel hanging from one of its sides to wipe the sweat off her face. 

“Need something?” she finally asked, impatiently glancing up at Pearl, who was wordlessly staring at her. 

“Alaska wants you to come to the living... the girl is awake,” she softly explained. “Bianca insisted to feed her before you could see her.” 

“I’ll be there in a second,” Sharon nodded shortly. She raised a brow when Pearl didn’t move an inch to walk out of the room. “Anything else?” 

Pearl seemed to wake up from a deep trance, judging by the way she shook her head eagerly as she stepped back, lost in awe. 

“No, I was just...” she gulped. “I was looking at your gloves. You never mentioned that you... do boxing.” 

She sounded truly interested on them. Weirdly, she would be the first person who could be interested in anything of that matter. Sharon looked down at the gloves, frowning for a second, soon relaxing her face into a sincere smile. 

“Since I was fourteen,” she commented, surprised of how easy it had been to tell, but Pearl’s tender gaze encouraged her. “I started taking lessons when I decided it was enough of letting everybody boss me around.” 

Pearl didn’t seem startled. She smiled then, daring to step forward. 

“My dad made me take lessons when he found out I was being bullied at school,” she quietly said. Sharon’s lips parted slowly, but before she could say something, Pearl continued to confess, “It didn’t turn out well, as you can imagine, I broke two fingers the third lesson so I decided to quit.” 

The room filled with Sharon’s laughter. Pearl joined her cackling after, feeling the tension in her shoulders dissolve. After a long pause, Sharon broke the silence throwing the towel to the chair. 

“And what happened then?” 

The question dropped like cold water on Pearl, who wasn’t definitely prepared to chat properly with Sharon Needles, who had caused an aura of admiration and fear the first moment she saw her. She couldn’t believe when Violet said how much of a witch she was because right there, Sharon seemed the most human Pearl had never seen before. 

“My dad was mad, but understood that I wasn’t ready for that—” she babbled, but Sharon cut her off with a snort. 

“I mean with your bullies. What did you do?” 

“Oh,” she shrugged. “The principal scolded them and I changed some classes so I didn’t see them anymore.” 

“Boring,” Sharon scoffed, walking directly to the door. Pearl blinked a couple of times before following at her heels through the wide corridor that headed to the living room. Without turning at her or stopping her walk, Sharon continued to exclaim: “Bullies are the worst, I’ve met some in the past.” 

“And what did  _you_ do?” Pearl rushed to ask. 

“I made them regret everything they did to me,” she simply, but firmly, replied. 

At the time Pearl could reply they were already in the living room, accompanied by Alaska and Violet. She let their small conversation die there. 

The sharp sound of steps had made Alaska lift her head. She exchanged a few looks with Sharon, knowing looks that had absolutely no meaning for the younger women, but seemed to be commands for them. Violet and Pearl looked confused while Alaska sprung from the couch and walked out of the room immediately after, being followed by Sharon. 

Violet frowned. “What the fuck was that? Code looks?” 

“We should have some too,” Pearl nodded but Violet scoffed.

“C’mon Pearl, what could we even say?” 

- 

After the meeting room, there was a black door that headed to something very similar to a maze. The maze; a corridor with several doors of small rooms around the basement. It was a complicated part of the house to get to if you didn’t know the place, perfect to keep someone in a discreet, and of course, silent way. 

Beatrix Mattel had proved that since she noticed her screaming found no way out the room she was kept in. 

Glazed eyes had scanned every single corner. They were looking for a window, maybe a crack, something that could say more than simple four walls and a small focus hanging from the ceiling. Her sight couldn’t reach more than what the light let it though. The cords were still tight around her wrists, pinning her arms against each other, bound to a metallic base over the wall. She had tried to move her legs, crampy for their own cords restraining their space, but she realized it was useless with time; they couldn’t move an inch. She had stopped crying after that, her weak body spasming over the cords with despair until she decided to be calm... or at least try to be calm. 

Speaking of time... 

How much had it passed? 

Hours? Days? 

That young blonde girl had brought her food only once... food that she had to swallow just with her pride when she opened her mouth so the girl could hand feed her, like a fucking baby. 

Trixie decided it had passed a couple of hours. 

She hoped... 

She hoped and prayed for it to be a nightmare. As she breathed heavily, trying to not let the panic control her, that it was all a nightmare. It couldn’t be anything else after all... the face she had seen when she woke up had to be created by her mind as an evil trick to tell her to drink more water before bed. Maybe that was why she had passed out again when she saw it. 

But was that room part of the nightmare? What about the cords? 

And when was this nightmare supposed to end? 

Her eyelids felt heavy, although her stomach was twisted. She tried to sleep, hoping that this time she would wake up in a soft, comfy bed— away from that room and those fucking cords, but she couldn’t. She simply couldn’t; there was a bad feeling twirling around her mind that she desperately tried to get rid of. 

It was when the only door in the room opened, revealing a dark figure thanks to the bright light of the other side of the frame, that Trixie knew she wouldn't be able to sleep... maybe in a long time. 

“Hey Trix... did you miss me?” 

That voice. 

That very voice that had haunted Trixie for many months, making her heart skip beats every time she heard it and that she thought she would never listen again was right there. 

“You look exactly as you did years ago,” the voice hummed. 

The door was closed in a fast motion, the sharp sound sending shivers to Trixie’s spine. The figure was now lit by the pale light of the focus... and it also looked exactly as Trixie remembered years ago. 

Alaska Honrad looked exactly as she did four years ago, with those cold eyes and a wave of power running around her, with the same air of superiority. The focus light was like a crown over her perfectly smoothed hair, which she kept as long and blonde as she did years ago. 

Tears fell involuntarily down her cheeks. Trixie kicked, trying to sneak away from the figure, turning out ridiculous since she was already leaning into the wall. She repeated to herself, almost like a mantra, that it was still a nightmare. 

“No, no, no...” she whispered, closing her eyes as she sensed Alaska walking closer. “Stop. Please stop. This can’t be happening.” 

Alaska’s predatory gaze could be felt burning her through her closed eyelids. 

“I thought you had missed me!” she exclaimed, her voice twisting with well faked sadness. “You’re so mean, Trixie. I did miss you.” 

“Get away from me!” Trixie cried, choking on several sobs cutting her mantra. 

Something in her sudden breaking made Alaska step back. The room flooded in no other noise than Trixie panting the same phrase over and over, but Alaska stood right where she was. Sight relief seemed to come to Trixie as she repeated her mantra faster and faster, better when she realized there was no answer. 

At the beginning, Alaska left her, thinking it was just nonsense words people say when they’re shock, and it wouldn’t be surprising, considering how pathetic Trixie was, but soon those nonsense words became clear to her.  _It’s all a nightmare_ , she loyally prayed. Alaska couldn’t help thinking it was simply adorable. 

“I can assure you I’m not a nightmare,” she then said, and managed to smile while Trixie’s eyes remained shut. “C’mon, Trixie, why won’t you look at me?” 

If there was something in the world that Alaska missed more than anything, was breaking Trixie Mattel, over and over again. 

“Because you should be dead!” 

- 

Sharon decided Alaska was more than fine on her own at the basement. After all, she and Trixie had no unfinished business (if that time when back in prison Trixie mentioned Sharon had anger issues and Sharon threated her with a plastic fork didn’t count) so Sharon had no reason to be there. Finding Trixie was more of a gift for Alaska and she knew it, now she had to wait what kind of information about the missing USB Trixie had to offer. 

Finally, she decided to turn on her heels and walk straight to the kitchen, which was luckily empty, and search for some lunch. The food Bianca’s people cooked in the morning was usually good— at least enough to satisfy her tired stomach after training. Her guts growled with eagerness as she pulled a Tupperware container full of potato salad out of the fridge. 

She had sat on the kitchen bar with the container and a spoon when Bianca, still wrapped in her ridiculously elegant peignoir she wore to sleep, entered the kitchen. Judging by the lack of make up on her face and how her eyes rolled when she spotted Sharon, it seemed like she expected the kitchen to be empty at that hour. 

“Good morning,” Sharon ironized, pulling a spoonful of salad into her mouth, not caring to chew it at all before swallowing it. 

“You’re disgusting,” Bianca stated, approaching her small medicine cabinet under the bar. She took a little white bottle and rushed to pour herself a glass of water. “Shouldn’t you be torturing that poor girl with Thunderfuck like... right now? Why the hell are you emptying my fridge?” 

“A girl has to eat. And I thought that Alaska maybe wanted to do it herself,” Sharon defended, shrugging. “I just finished training so I needed a little break.” 

Bianca took three gulps of water to swallow three different pills before replying. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s why the entire house smells like a high school gym,” she sighed dramatically, Sharon only grinned in response. The kitchen flooded into a dead silence for several seconds while Bianca organized more pills in her palm. “May I ask you something, Needles?” 

“Sure.” 

“How did you find that girl?” 

It took Sharon a second to reply. That and stopping playing with the salad to lift her head directly at Bianca’s direction. 

“You opened the file, didn’t you?” she raised a brow. 

Bianca nodded, her head leaning backwards as she swallowed another pill. 

“I did. Imagine my surprise when I opened it and saw it was—” she stopped to shoot Sharon a serious look, “a file full of menus of Chinese restaurants.” 

She couldn’t understand why the situation was so funny for Sharon, why it made the evil smile on her lips grow as she giggled into the spoon. 

“Be honest with me, Needles,” Bianca tiredly sat in the bar in front of her. “How did you find her?” 

Sharon remained silent for a moment, almost as if she was thinking deeply about the options she had. But judging by how Bianca’s shoulders were tensing with every minute she didn’t reply, it seemed like she had no many options. 

“When we were in Dela’s apartment, there was a little paper that came out from a book Alaska dropped,” she finally explained, placing the spoon back on the bar. “There was the name  _Bea M_  and a number. I saved it, thought it would be useful, and it turned out to be when I called that very number days after.” 

“Beatrix’s number,” Bianca understood. Sharon nodded. “You recognized her voice from prison.” 

“It seemed so easy to contact her. She’s a terrible dealer, I could’ve been a cop or something,” Sharon assured with a dry laugh. “I told her I was Dela’s friend and planned a meeting so I could buy some stuff.” 

“And you didn’t tell Thunderfuck about your little plan because…” Bianca’s words were trailed off, hoping Sharon would fill the sentence for her. 

“Because Alaska is a damn planner,” was everything Sharon replied. “And I am, if you want to call it that, a woman of action. Trixie might be fucking stupid but she should’ve felt something was wrong the moment she knew Dela was dead.” 

Bianca nodded slowly, the explanation seemed to be enough. 

“Don’t you think she will be mad?” 

“With her old toy back?” Sharon scoffed. “I don’t think she will mind that much.” 

- 

Alaska rolled her eyes as another sob filled her ears. 

It must have passed almost an hour since she entered the room, and yet Trixie hadn’t stopped crying. It was pathetic; Alaska couldn’t even enjoy the moment like that. How could Trixie still contain tears after all that time? Alaska made a mental note to tell Pearl to stop giving her big quantities of water in her meals. 

She then considered stopping feeding Trixie at all. Maybe if she starved she could shut her fucking cries. 

“Shut up!” she barked, but it only made Trixie squirm in fear even more, crawling away from her, to the corner. 

Alaska sighed. Rubbing her temples had stopped working to decrease her stress a while ago. She  _hated_ noise. 

 _It’s enough_ , she stated. She couldn’t let Trixie decide how much of her time she would waste interrogating her pathetic self. 

Alaska took advantage of Trixie’s unawareness to walk over her body, bent in a fetal position. If she stopped thinking of it for a moment, it wasn’t bad at all; even though she couldn’t hurt her verbally, her simple presence seemed to hurt her... mentally? Who knew? Alaska wanted more than that. 

“Trixie, look up,” she coldly commanded. 

“This is not real, this is not real...” the messy blonde kept whispering to herself. 

A firm grip pulling on her dirt-stained shirt was enough to make Trixie sit. The sudden motion made her look up, swollen eyes locking with Alaska’s emotionless ones, mouth running dry. 

“Wanna know how real I am?” Alaska asked. 

Trixie remained in shock. She didn’t move her head, not even when she saw Alaska raising her hand, not even when her cheek was cruelly smacked. 

“Did that feel real to you, doll?” Alaska remarked, grinning when there was no other reaction from the other woman. “Uh? Maybe you need another one.” 

There was a reaction after the second smack; a pale red starting to cover Trixie’s skin. Alaska could feel her head throbbing, but the excitement running through her palm as she thought of slapping Trixie again was way stronger. After the third time Trixie woke up from her trance, gasping in pain before her voice dissolved in the echo of the room. 

“How is this possible?” her voice sounded small, distant, her eyes lost in somewhere Alaska’s face. “How are you alive? I thought— I thought you were...” 

“Dead? Is that what you want to say?” 

“Yes! You were dead!” Trixie exclaimed, but pulled back quickly. Her sudden courage died when Alaska moved an inch closer. “You died in that fire... that’s what everyone said.” 

“There’s the key word, Trix. What they  _said_ ,” Alaska’s lips pursed as she pointed out what Trixie never stopped to think of. “But did you ever see anything?” 

- 

 **Three years before.**  

 _Bianca Del Rio’s house was the first place Sharon and Alaska had stepped in since the plane that meant their way out of Philadelphia. They were tired, wearing the same orange jumpsuits stained with bleach, starving to the point they almost fainted on the way and Bianca’s driver had to carry Alaska_ _the_ _rest of the way. The fatigue was too much to let them enjoy the beautiful mansion around them, what would be their new home, but they tried anyways._  

 _“Before you go to your room,” Bianca, the mysterious but powerful lady that started the mess that they had been living for the last four months, spoke from an unknown spot of the house. “There’s something I want to show you.”_  

 _Sharon and Alaska exchanged concerned looks as they followed Bianca’s driver to the origin of her voice, somehow between the thick walls. The man only turned around to inform them that they were going to the living room._  

 _“It’s not Ms. Del Rio’s favorite place,” he commented as they walked. “She doesn’t spend a lot of time there, if you’re interested to know... and in case you’re looking for a place to spend the morning in complete privacy.”_  

 _“Where does she spend time then?” Sharon asked._  

 _He only sighed. “That’s not my thing to say.”_  

 _‘Glorious’ was the only word able to describe the sight before them. That was exactly it. In the middle of the elegant room, adorned with soft couches and paintings that looked overly expensive over the walls, it was glorious._ _There_ _were_ _shelves with books that seemed older than any of them, coffee tables with glass surfaces that held beautiful jars with flowers of every color and size, just like the flowers they had seen in the garden earlier._  

 _Bianca was patiently waiting for them. She held a small cup of tea that could easily be valued for more than_ _Alaska’s_ _childhood house, a silver tray in the table before her with two similar cups. The gigantic television that hung from the wall was turned on. A blonde and very enthusiastic girl along with a serious guy spoke about politic issues at town at a table._  

 _“I’m glad you can accompany me,” Bianca greeted as she sipped the tea, gesturing to the empty couches that remained in the room. “Take a seat. The important news_ _are_ _about to begin.”_  

 _They obeyed wordlessly. The driver took_ _the television’s control from the glass table and turned the volume on, just when the blonde girl started speaking again._  

 _“In other news, an accident has been announced in the state prison of Pennsylvania,” she told. Images of the outsides of the prison started showing in frames around her. “The prison’s library was caught in a fire this_ _morning;_ _the reason is still unknown but is being pointed at_ _an_ _error in the lighting cables of the building. The administrative area of the prison is already speaking to the families of the decreased convicts this accident took the lives of. They promised everything this accident caused is going to be fixed within this week, with no excuses.”_  

 _The screen went black_ _the_ _instant_ _Bianca’s_ _driver pressed the power button. With that, the room went completely silent, with Bianca sipping her tea and Sharon and Alaska holding their breath. Alaska’s hand looked for Sharon’s almost immediately, entwining their fingers together when air finally could reach her lungs. When she looked up, she was met with a tender smile that she had never seen on Sharon before._  

 _“_ _Congratulations_ _, ladies,” Bianca sounded sincere although her tone was flat. “You’re officially dead to the police of Pennsylvania, and with that, you’re dead to government of this country. You will not be_ _persued_   _anymore. Your files are already erased from their data and now you’re nothing but the reminder of an accident that they will try to avoid for the next years. Welcome to freedom, in other words.”_  

 _Sharon’s shaky free hand found its way to Alaska’s neck, pulling her closer._  

 _“Did you hear that?” she giggled, noses shifting against each other as Alaska smiled back._  

 _“I’ve never been happier to hear that I’m dead,” Alaska muttered. She was about to pull in and kiss Sharon with the hunger she had been feeling since they left Philadelphia when Bianca cleared her throat, breaking the bubble around them._  

 _“I’m sorry for interrupting your moment, but...” she pointed up. “Your room is waiting for you. I know you need to rest and sleep, so you’re free to do so, your bed is done. There will be people waiting in the kitchen for you to go and ask for food, so you don’t have to worry about that. Anything you have doubt with?”_  

 _“Thank you,” Alaska simply said, not bothering to sound modest as her chin remained up._  

 _Sharon sighed, her excitement couldn’t be_ _hidden_ _for much time._  

 _“Thanks, Bianca. This means a lot,” she admitted, following Alaska’s words._  

 _Bianca nodded, smiling for the first time since they arrived._  

 _“It’s my pleasure.”_  

_Even though they knew they shouldn’t have trusted Bianca so quickly, allowing her to change everything they knew in their lives, they knew it was the best they could do... accept her offer or get rotten in prison, it wasn’t a hard choice at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> which character do you wanna see next chapter? being honest i already worte chapter 5 and i'm so excited lmao it's one of my favorite chapters


	5. How to sharpen a knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing to do when we've born sick. Damage stays in our blood, polluting everything inside us, and once we realize we're rotten... it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIIII!!! sorry i took too long to post this! i've been a lil busy with school lately, it's fucking crazy, but i think it's going better lmao. also idk why but i edited this chapter a lot, there were a lot of things i deleted and added and it was also badshit crazy but i like it cuz we see a little more from sharon and alaska's past! soooo i hope you like it and if you did pls let me know! thanks for reading! <3

It was an important day. One of those that had Bianca taking even more pills that she did on a daily basis. 

When Gia, a short girl with shiny black hair that worked as one of many Bianca’s assistants, showed up at Violet and Pearl’s door saying that Bianca required their presence immediately, they knew something big was happening. It had to, or otherwise Bianca wouldn’t call them to a meeting so early in the morning, especially in the kitchen. 

She was humming into a coffee mug when they finally approached the kitchen bar, her sleeping peignoir still wrinkled on the shoulders, her hair wasn’t even done. The woman looked fresh but somehow tired at the same time. 

“You called us, Ms. Del Rio?” Pearl’s voice was small from the door. 

Bianca pulled the mug away and gestured for them to come in as she started to gather her medicines on their respective bottles. 

“Are we in trouble?” Violet asked, her childish tone making her seem almost afraid of the answer. Maybe she was. 

But with Bianca’s mouth full of coffee, the only response she received was her eyes rolling and another gesture of her hand to come closer. 

“Come in. Seat down, we need to talk.” 

That didn’t sound good. Violet and Pearl looked at each other, almost wondering what they had done wrong. Didn’t they pick up certain package at certain hour? Or did they mistake something at the cellar? Most importantly, whatever they did, weren’t Sharon and Alaska involved? Or why weren’t they there? Then they realized, come on, the question was stupid itself. Sharon and Alaska never fucked up. They were Bianca’s first calls, and everybody knew how much respect Bianca felt for them, how much she trusted them. Violet and Pearl were sure, whatever happened, it had nothing to do with them. 

They sat at the bar, directly in front of Bianca. A dead silence was formed as none of them said something. Violet was anxiously playing with her hair while Pearl bit her lip, but Bianca paid little attention to their nervous details as she finished saving her pills and adding more milk to her coffee. 

“Tonight is a special night,” Bianca commented suddenly. Their eyes went straight up to meet with hers. “As you know, one of my information savers, my USB, is lost. Someone stole it, more specifically. But we’re very close to find it.” 

“Are we?” Violet interrupted, surprised. Realizing her mistake, her eyes snapped open as she shook her head, leaving the words to Bianca again. 

“Yes. Yes we are,” she stated firmly. “We tracked the USB down to Sasha Velour’s possession. Sasha Velour, more known as the owner of a very extravagant casino called Velvet Sky, where exclusive events take place every night and where we plan to know more about her. I’m taking no risks here: before we go in, we need to be sure what we’re heading to.” 

“Smart move,” Pearl whispered, nodding in excitement. 

“Sasha’s casino is still unknown territory. I was planning to send Thunderfuck and Needles out there,” Bianca let out a long sigh, “But I know that would be put them in danger, something I can’t afford now. So, instead, we’re getting closer in a more... discreet and casual way. I count on it to work out.” 

“How?” both girls asked at unison, giggling when they had realized. 

Bianca took a second to reply. 

“The socialite of Los Angeles loves to organize events every weekend at Velvet Sky. There is no need for invitation, only a good amount of money that assures your value there. Those parties are pretty popular between politicians and business people,” Bianca shrugged. “It won’t be too hard for us to go inside undercover.” 

She sharply paused. Violet and Pearl were on the edge of the bar stools, waiting attentively, embracing what could come next. 

“I want you two to come with us tonight.” 

The phrase was told so fast Pearl thought she had listened wrong. But when she looked up, and the same startled expression was on Violet’s face, she knew she heard it perfectly. 

“You... what?” 

“You two are coming with us tonight. Under Thunderfuck and Needles’ commands, of course, I don’t want any mistakes,” Bianca clarified, but none of them seemed to care that little detail. “But I think it’s time for both of you to start realizing that real business is more than tracking money down as you have been doing for the last few months.” 

The instruction was serious, almost threatening. Bianca didn’t seem too pleased to give them that responsibility yet but still spoke with an air of nostalgia, as if she understood the importance of her words over them. 

“That’s... that’s huge,” Violet breathed out. “Like... we’ve never done that.” 

“If you don’t want to—” 

“But we want,” Pearl stuttered as she jumped on her stool, turning at Violet. “I... I think we’re ready.” 

Bianca raised a single brow. 

“I need you to understand the seriousness of this situation. If something goes wrong, there will not be only a scold by me as a consequence. You will be there, alone, pretending to be someone you are not, exposed to anything. Are the both of you completely aware of that?” 

Biting her lip, Violet nodded. “Yes. We are.” 

- 

“Life is such a roulette, isn’t it? We never know where we will end... like what happened to you, right?” Alaska’s voice was sweet as honey, a huge grin creeping into her lips. “Who would think that such a decent woman would end up selling drugs? Or illegal substances, as you used to call them. Ha! You, out of all the people... you.” 

Trixie sighed and looked down, face twisting in shame as Alaska’s laugh sounded from above. She tried to shift, cramps running down her legs as she had been in the same position for many hours by now, but she achieved nothing. Again. 

“I was fired after the accident. All the administrative area was,” she weakly repeated. “The press blamed us, I lost my apartment and I didn’t know how to get money! I needed money and I had access to the confiscated belongings—” 

“That’s not an excuse! You had no money, boo-boo, that’s fucking sad. Just admit you’re not as perfect as you thought you were,” Alaska shook her head. Fists were tight at her sides. “You’re a criminal. A rotten, stupid, dirty criminal... just like us. There is not tale for that. Is it, Sharon?” 

From the back of the room, Sharon hummed positively. She didn’t seem to actually pay attention judging by the bored way she was picking on her nails, sitting on a wooden chair with feet resting on the wall, but Alaska didn’t mind. 

“I just didn’t think of it! Please, oh please, leave me alone!” Trixie shouted, but her voice soon turned into whispers. “I didn’t think of it...” 

Alaska knelt. Slowly, just stopping when her face was as the same height as Trixie’s and placed a finger on her chin to lift her sight up. 

“You know what I hate the most about you?” she questioned, every word spat. “The fact you came with that stupid doll face, bragging about your college degree and friends and pretty house... you always felt you were too good to be working with dirty assholes like us, uh? Now look at yourself, you’re one of us.” 

Something in that sentence made Trixie’s heart jump in her chest. Her head lifted so quickly her nose tapped Alaska’s chin. 

“I was in need! I... I would never be like you!” she desperately cried. Her head whipped down as soon as it lifted, soon hiding from Alaska’s glare. Being scared of anything that Alaska could do, at this point, at her mercy, was unavoidable. 

But Alaska’s countenance was cold and firm as ice. She calmly pulled back, with that heavy glare of hers that made Trixie immediately nervous, because it meant she was analyzing something. 

“Oh, but you were friends with one of us. Wasn’t Dela your friend?” 

“We only spoke a few times! She bought me weed!” Trixie sobbed. “I don’t anything about her, about this stupid USB you’re asking about...” 

It was impressive she still had tears to shed, considering she had been there almost a week. Her muffed sobs and whimpers and stupid attempts to speak up were something that always let Alaska amused. It was ridiculous; Trixie Mattel embodied the phrase  _once a coward, always a coward_ , and she proved it more than perfectly every time the sudden wave of nerve that hit her disappeared as fast as it came. 

Alaska had enjoyed these days, of course she did, even though they seemed to not get any closer to the missing USB, Trixie could always be used as a little stress ball she could press her fingers around. 

And after a long pause, Alaska stood. “Sharon, let’s go, this is boring.” 

Sharon followed her to the door, mumbling something over the lines of  _a week and we have nothing_  to herself. Trixie stared as they left. Once the door was slammed on her face, and she room flooded into a deep silence, darkness covering most of it, tears started streaming again... automatically. Painfully. 

- 

“I need a beer, maybe three cigarettes... and some coke.” 

Sharon stretched her arms above her head as she walked, keeping track of the things she said with her fingers. Alaska nodded as she rubbed the back of her neck, agreeing with her. 

“I haven’t had a single drink since this motherfucker of a USB disappeared,” she cursed as they crossed the hallway outside Trixie’s room. 

“I haven’t done a single line in almost... two? Or three weeks? I don’t know, I’m not very good at counting when I’m sober,” Sharon sighed. “Or when I’m not.” 

“You’re telling me?” Alaska chuckled ironically. “I’m not in my best time.” 

“I thought insulting Beatrix for an hour straight was enough for you to be in your ‘best time’,” Sharon mocked, mimicking quotation marks with her fingers in the air. “You really hate that girl, don’t you?” 

“Meh. It’s mostly the fact that now I can use all the insults I couldn’t use before because she thought I was dead,” she replied, shrugging so simply, making Sharon to burst out laughing. “And how she... she makes me remember prison.” 

“I thought prison wasn’t exactly a happy memory.” 

“I don’t know, it’s weird. It’s just that I used to be the one inside a cage, and now she is... in my cage. Does that sound kinky?” 

“Yeah…” Sharon’s laugh trailed off as she went silent for a second. “Quick question; do you really, honestly think Trixie had something to do with the USB?” 

The hallway was empty, their voices echoing through the secret walls under the mansion. Alaska took her time to answer, in which their steps was the only sound filling the air. 

“Who knows? She’s the worst dealer in the world, but she was friends with Dela somehow, maybe she told her something.” 

“Okay. More specific question,” Sharon remarked. “Do you think she will ever tell us something? Because I’m fucking tired of listening to her crying every day.” 

Alaska’s brows raised. “Oh, she will. I know.” 

“You sound so sure.” 

“I’ve been soft these days, probably because I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in my system and that fucks me up,” she shook her head as her hand ran through the long strands of blonde hair, “But that will stop. I’ll make her talk.” 

Sharon had stared at her with a clear, tender smile that was not usually seen on her. 

“Abstinence is a bitch.” 

“Amen to that.” 

“I’d sue Bianca for inhuman work conditions if she couldn’t send my ass back to jail in three seconds…” 

Sharon broke off her sentence when she pushed the door to the meeting room. Violet and Pearl were already there, as usual in the middle of the long table. Which was usual, though, was the fact that the two younger women looked just as if they had seen a ghost before. Pale, sharing incoherent looks between each other, unlike their daily insignificant chat. 

“What’s up with you two?” Alaska was the first to ask as she followed Sharon to sit, arms bent over the table. 

“Ms. Del Rio called us to tell us about tonight. She... uh, she wants us to go with you,” Pearl replied almost robotically. For much of her surprise, and Violet’s, none Sharon and Alaska said a thing, which made her frown and stutter in concern. “You knew about it?” 

“You’re asking if we knew that Bianca would ask you to come to Velvet Sky with us?” Sharon’s head tilted with a teasing smile. “Fuck, kid, you’re so dumb.” 

“I’d say naïve. But that’s kind of cute, in my opinion,” Alaska mocked, and turned to a very confused Violet and Pearl to explain; “Bianca told us about it last night; we thought it was a good idea.” 

“You really did?” Violet raised a single brow. “Why?” 

“Because if we’re going undercover to one of the most popular casinos in Los Angeles, we’re not gonna be the only ones with three gunshots in your foreheads,” Sharon said, deadly serious. It made Violet gulp slowly, thing that of course Sharon noticed as she grinned evilly. “Oh, please tell me you’re not scared.” 

“No,” she cleared her throat to take composure. “Not at all. I can handle it.” 

“You surely will,” Alaska immediately assured. “I’ll inform you now: we’re leaving at nine p.m., not a single minute after that. In your room you’ll find clothes... appropriate for this occasion, along with some accessories, take whatever you want and feel free to keep it afterwards.” 

“Take it as a gift for your very first time doing this kind of things. Something else you need to know: we’re doing something called  _Cinderella_ ,” Sharon spoke right after, almost as if they had accorded to explain everything in a perfect order. “This means we must be out of the casino before midnight.” 

“Why?” dared to ask Pearl. 

Sharon shot her an annoyed look. “You want to be killed so bad, don’t you?” 

“No...” 

“The casino is surrounded by the police for now and unless you want to go to prison, I suggest you to get the hell out of there before midnight,” she spat. 

“The cops have settled a curfew at midnight in every place of Los Angeles due security reasons, we don’t have to worry about them as long as we’re not in visible field during that curfew,” Alaska explained. “We cannot afford any mistakes for now, so we’re leaving at midnight and that’s it. Is that completely clear for you?” 

Pearl and Violet nodded wordlessly. There was so much they had to know and so little time, pressure increased with every second. 

Over the table was a yellow envelope, carefully closed. Alaska’s skinny fingers pressed on the edge until she ripped open to pull its content out, all under the curious glares of Violet and Pearl. Several pictures fell over the table, every of them showing the face of a different person, with different names underneath. Almost all of them seemed to be taken from professional angles, for governmental use. 

Sharon raised one with the name Agnes Moore on it. 

“This lady is the general administrator of Velvet Sky,” she stated, tossing the picture around so they could get a better view after taking another picture, this one with the name Trinity Taylor on it. “Memorize these names, these faces, we’re seeing all of them tonight, and we need to know who we’re dealing with.” 

“Are they dangerous?” Pearl inquired. 

“Not actually,” this time, was Alaska speaking. “All we’re doing tonight is getting information; we need to be careful on how we talk in order to be seen as nothing but a couple of dumb important people with a lot of money trying to enjoy the night. Don’t ask directly, start a conversation, be nice and giggle at every single stupid joke they say... if possible, wait until someone brings Sasha up.” 

“They’re our target,” Sharon summarized. She held the picture of a lady called Shea Couleé. “Especially this one. This is Sasha’s wife.” 

“Wow,” mouthed Violet, taking the picture. “Do we know how Sasha looks like?” 

“Not yet. Apparently, there’s no trail of hers in any archive from the government, at least not the ones we have access to,” Alaska said as she scratched her neck, thoughtfully looking at the pictures. “But that won’t be a bother tonight. This is only an information research, not an operation properly, remember that.” 

“It’s not hard to pretend you’re a politician’s wife expecting to waste money on a poker game but if you fuck up, we’ll all screwed, and I’ll make sure the gunshots go directly to your forehead,” Sharon hummed distantly, almost innocently, her eyes soon going up. “No pressure, of course.” 

Pearl managed a nervous laugh. Violet sighed, her eyes quickly returning to the pictures, analyzing every single detail that could be missed by her. 

“Any questions?” Alaska questioned after a what seemed a long pause. The only response she got was Violet and Pearl’s heads shaking firmly. She nodded, looking weirdly pleased, and gesturing at Sharon with the beginning of a tender smile. “What should we have for breakfast?” 

“I was thinking of some toasts,” Sharon’s lips pursed, her previous threat forgotten for the moment. 

“No way! You just read my mind.” 

Sharon and Alaska had sunk into a mundane conversation (that until that day none Violet or Pearl knew they were able to have, like actual people because who would have guessed they even had breakfast?) while they remained in a thoughtful trance, lost in the previous instruction. In the sudden silence of the room Pearl placed a hand on Violet’s arm. 

“Vi...” 

“Yeah?” 

“I really don’t wanna fuck it up tonight.” 

Violet glanced up at her with something very similar to fear. 

“Me neither.” 

- 

It was time to start getting ready for Velvet Sky. Alaska knew perfectly she couldn’t be late, so after a hot shower, she took the dress that had appeared in her door during the afternoon and slipped into the fabric in front of the mirror. 

The clothes for that occasions were chosen by one of Bianca’s people— Raven, her personal hairdresser. Alaska had never been a fan of her choices; she found them too bright and childish (which wouldn’t be surprising, considering Bianca’s ‘over the top’ silhouette), no matter how good Raven though she would look on them. However, Alaska was pleased with her most recent choice; the dress was, in simple words, made out of simple green fabric. 

Once it was on, Alaska decided it might be the first thing she actually kept from Raven; the straps were tight around her shoulders, the material clung perfectly to every part of her body, sticking to her hips as it followed a path to a mermaid-cut around her legs. 

With the dress finally on, and simple black heels that came with it, Alaska only had to worry about make up, which was done in less than an hour. That left her plenty of time for the hardest part: brushing her hair. 

“Fucking shit— fuck, fuck, fuck. Stupid piece of crap.” 

Alaska released the hairbrush from her firm grasp with a painful yelp. It remained stuck on her hair, somewhere in the area of her neck, and it was impossible to get it out of there. Her hair was a monster, a terribly moody one that seemed more like a nestle that actual hair and refused to be brushed. 

Her swearing caught Sharon’s attention, who had been sitting on the bed, rubbing a washcloth around the blade of her knife after patiently sharpen it. 

“Are you okay?” she had smugly asked.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” Alaska snorted in annoyance, pointing at the brush stuck on her hair. 

“I’ve got it.” 

Sharon pulled her knife away and walked over their old vanity, where Alaska sat, standing behind her. She started taking the long strands, wrapping them around her fingers before running the fingers out of the hair delicately. The process was repeated until the brush could come out with the knots and she could brush it normally, successfully for the first time. Alaska sighed in relief. 

“Is that better?” 

“Way better,” she confirmed. Sharon’s touch in her shoulder was too soft she thought she could fall asleep right there. “Sometimes I hate my hair.” 

“Why don’t you just cut it?” Sharon simply questioned, looking directly at Alaska’s eyes through her reflection on the mirror. 

Although it sounded like Sharon had not given importance to the idea, judging by how she continued to brush, Alaska seemed to consider it for a long, very long moment. “I’ve never thought of that before,” she admitted in a whisper. 

“Really?” 

“Really. I would look... weird. Ugly even.” 

“I don’t think so. In fact, I think you would look good,” Sharon bent a think strand of hair and held it to a side, exactly to the height of her shoulders, trying to picture it shorter. “Maybe like this. You look different, like another person.” 

“Different...” Alaska bit down on her lip, head tilting to a side as she thought. She breathed a laugh and shook her head, releasing the hair back to its height. “No, it’s not going to happen. When I was in high school, I used to have so short brown hair, with braces. I looked like the stereotype of an American movie nerd.” 

She was cut by Sharon’s laugh. 

“Well, that’s definitely a good mental image you just gave me, thanks for that.” 

“Shut up,” Alaska rolled her eyes, but joined her cackling. “My mom used to cut my hair every month, she didn’t want it to grow since it reminded her that I was a girl and not a boy as she and my dad wanted me to be.” 

Sharon stopped brushing for a brief moment. “I didn’t know that.” 

“It’s not something that pleases me to comment,” Alaska mumbled, distant, eyes still holding with Sharon’s through the reflection. “I stopped cutting my hair when I ran away from home. Not because I wanted to feel more like a girl or some shit like that, I always knew I was a girl, it’s stupid. I guess... I guess I just wanted to do the opposite my mom did. To contrast.” 

Just then Sharon stopped brushing abruptly and placed the hairbrush on the vanity. She let out a long sigh and pulled Alaska’s hair from her left shoulder to the opposite side, only to lean and press a chaste kiss to the now exposed skin. 

There was a something that Alaska hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe it was the intense disappointment of feeling out of place, feeling small under circumstances beyond her control, and she definitely didn’t miss it. Maybe it was the sorrow of old wounds opening again. Old wounds that maybe never healed. She couldn’t recognize it well, after so much time trying to heal them by creating tons of new wounds in other people, pretending there wasn’t anything else. 

“You know what I got every single time I failed a test in high school?” Sharon suddenly asked. Her voice was low, enough for Alaska to listen barely a whisper. 

“What?” 

“Bruises,” she breathed a laugh that had no humor at all. “My dad... he never stopped, not even when I screamed. It was only on the face at the beginning, some slaps, insults... shit I could stand. Then he just... he just beat what he saw. Every night. Fuck, he even stopped looking for excuses. And my mom... my mommy dearest never gave a fuck. Sometimes I think she even enjoyed when she watched. Fucked, isn’t it? Neither did my sister care. Of course, she was the little one, the loved one, she’d never have done shit for me.” 

Alaska looked up. She took Sharon’s hand, entwining her fingers with her cold ones and murmuring something that would place a smile on Sharon’s lips. 

“Fuck those pigs.”


	6. Heaven isn't close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danger strikes from the least expected places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!! MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!! i'm sorry, i took way too long to post this :/ but in my defense, i had too much going on with school and my job, but the good thing is that none of those is going to be a problem now bc my semester ended and i got fired lmao. anywAYS i hope you enjoy this chapter bc i really like it! and pls don't doubt about giving me your opinion about it. <3

Sharon had been given an exuberant amount of money and taken to Velvet Sky by Sam, alone, since Alaska, Violet and Pearl had their own ways of transport. It was a security measure, according to Bianca; it was important for them to not be seen together at any moment of the night. It would create suspiciousness that they didn’t need. 

As soon as she had stepped into Velvet Sky, Sharon had smoothed the fabric of her long black dress and made a beeline directly to the poker game about to start. With Alaska at the bar and Violet and Pearl padding around the outside area of the casino, it was a perfect way to mix into the small crowd that attended the place that night. Poker wasn’t exactly the easiest game in the world, but Sharon had seen Katya and Alaska playing it once in prison with old cards and corks representing the pot, and she was sure she could survive one or two betting rounds. 

A lady with hair dyed in a soft shade of pink, neck over-decorated with extravagant jewelry and a laugh that could only be compared with an angel’s won every single round Sharon participated in. Softs grunts were listened every time she took the pot all for herself. At the beginning Sharon thought it was just beginner’s luck, because her image did not resemble a casino player at all, but soon another woman leaned into her shoulder to clarify her doubts. 

“That’s Farrah Moan,” she told with delicate scorn in her voice. “She’s the queen of poker around here. If you ask, I think the house dealer has a thing for her. She always gets the best cards.” 

The house dealer had the name of Aja in a golden plate over the left side of her chest and, very accurately, tender eyes on Farrah Moan. Sharon laughed quietly before turning at her right, finding the pacific face of Trinity Taylor humming into an almost empty cup of red wine. 

“I hate cheaters,” Trinity swore when she lowered the cup, gulping shortly. “And not knowing who’s sitting next to me.” 

Sharon raised a brow with the remains of a smile still on her lips and a hand gently held out at the other woman, dropping her cards over the velvety tablecloth. 

“Name is Isabelle Galasso.” 

“Galasso? So you’re Italian and new, uh? What a combination,” she mumbled and briefly shook her hand. “I’m Trinity Taylor.” 

“Nice to meet you, Trinity. You must know the place very well.” 

She didn’t reply immediately. Sharon returned her attention to Aja only to give her cards back so they could be shuffled for the new round while a waiter came around and replaced another cup, this one full, for Trinity’s empty one. 

“You can say that,” with a proud shrug, Trinity took a sip of her wine. “It happens that I have a lot of free time since I divorced. Casinos are such happy places... and this one is my favorite of the area. What about you? What brings you here?” 

“My husband is about to sign some important contract for his company and we’re stuck here until that happens,” the answer came out easily and Trinity seemed to buy it with no hesitation, although Sharon’s roll of eyes helped a lot. “We live in Miami and he’s trying to get me attached to Los Angeles with... its attractions.” 

“And isn’t he here with you?” 

“No,” another roll of eyes. Trinity smiled. “He prefers to stay home and take care of his money. Sometimes I think he treasures it more than me.” 

“My husband was exactly the same. Oh, men!” she hummed bitterly. “Aren’t they the worst? Especially the rich ones, thinking they can dump women at any time...” 

Aja started giving cards away when Trinity’s hand landed on Sharon’s arm. “Well, Isabelle, don’t you wanna come and have a drink with me and my friends? This game is boring...” her voice trailed off in a whisper. “And set up. Come with me.” 

And Sharon was in. It was so easy, it had just taken some sips of their drinks and a couple of details about a life that Sharon made up in the moment to convince Trinity’s friends, a group of middle-aged women, that she was one of them. She wondered for a second if everyone in Velvet Sky was that naïve. She wondered if everyone was that sure of their security. Of course, she was treating with politicians and business ladies, they had to. She had to assimilate the idea that the people around were the big deal— if she ever thought Bianca was powerful, Bianca had nothing on them. 

“He promised he would buy me diamonds if he didn’t sign the contract this week. Now it’s hard to decide if I want diamonds or a new company in New Zealand.” 

A wave of high-pitched laughs from the group sounded and Sharon smiled, pleased with her achievement as she slightly balanced the flute of champagne in her right hand. At this time of the night was hard to tell if she was truly good at making up stories or the expensive drinks had made their way up their heads. 

“Your husband’s job sounds terrible,” a tall man, with a generous silver beard covering the middle of his face, spoke from a side. Sharon’s eyes stopped to study the unrecognizable glint on his eyes as he approached her. “He’s definitely lucky for having a cute little thing like you at home.” 

“Well, I’m not at home right now so you can stop pretending to have a decent pickup line,” she muttered in a sugar covered voice, lashes batting at him. The group giggled around one more time and he smiled in a poor attempt to cover the embarrassment, padding his way to the other side of the room. 

- 

Alaska’s finger ghosted over the edge of the glass one more time. 

“And are you sure the pay of that journalist job of yours is enough?” 

Agnes Moore was at the other side of the bar when she asked, with a perfectly drawn brow raised, and a hand resting on a freshly open bottle of something Alaska had never seen before in her life but was sure costed what two houses did. It made her stop the slight movement of her finger to look up. 

“It pays the bills,” she replied, shrugging. “It’s a good job, I swear. It’s just the people I have to deal with what’s giving me headaches every day. Some of them are really assholes, but I’ll be over them someday.” 

“Trust me Alex, I know about that. Being behind a bar really makes you build a strong personality,” Agnes assured before she burst out laughing. “I didn’t ask you if I could call you Alex. Or do you prefer Alexandra?” 

“Alex is just fine.” 

Alaska made sure to join into her cackling as she nodded. It wasn’t that hard; Agnes’ laughter was nice and contagious enough for that after all. Alaska raised the glass to her lips to take a long sip of whatever was in it, feeling the clear liquid burning its way down her throat before becoming a sweet taste under her tongue. 

“How much have you been behind this bar?” 

“Long enough. I’ve known the owner for a while, we’re good friends,” Alaska nodded in sudden interest at Sasha’s mention. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard of her, her name is Sasha Velour. She’s a good person. You know, like the good person type, but she’s a workaholic. And if she overworks, that means...” 

“You also overwork,” she filled and Agnes nodded. 

“Exactly that. But I can’t complain! The Casino is almost full every night, and even though Sasha’s not here she manages to control everything perfectly. Of course, I help her with some things, but it’s mainly her brain working off.” 

A bell chimed over Alaska’s head as an alarm. That was interesting; if Sasha’s absence at the casino was usual, that meant she had somewhere else to be, and that somewhere was probably important for her. She gave Agnes another wide smile, as innocent as she could. 

“That sounds like a handful. I kind of admire her now, I could never administrate a casino without worrying about everything.” 

“I honestly admire her. She’s a good person,” Agnes repeated solemnly. “She’s a good wife and a good friend. And she never worries about anything. She only cares about her clients, if they’re happy and playing, everything is fine then. See when I said she was the good type?” 

There was a sense of nostalgia in her words that only made Alaska more curious. She raised the glass again, grimacing when she realized it was almost empty, and gesturing at Agnes with it. 

“You don’t mind if I ask for another one, do you?” 

“Oh, not at all!” Agnes jumped in her spot. She took the glass and quickly went to work, Alaska smiling apologetically from her stool as she watched the woman going from a side to another. “Our little conversation drove me away for a second, Alex. Luckily the bar is always empty at this hour.” 

“Always at this hour?” 

Looking around, Alaska acknowledged that maybe she had been too busy into the leaked details about Sasha that Agnes provided that she didn’t realize that, in fact, the bar was completely empty. The loud environment of the games seemed to have everyone trapped into a bubble, entirely focused on the record system, the group of young waiters and waitresses running around. 

Alaska quickly scanned the entire room looking for a known face, but there was nothing. It could had been good or bad, depending on how Sharon, Pearl and Violet were doing, but with none of them available into her sight, only hoping was left. She knew Sharon was in her element; she was an excellent liar, and there was no doubt she could get information out of anybody. Violet and Pearl, on the other hand that Alaska usually preferred to ignore, were new and exposed to any kind of trouble out there. If they fucked up, everything was over. 

The glass was full of a translucid pink liquid, the piece of a strawberry hanging from the edge as pure decoration, and placed in front of Alaska again. 

“Always at this hour,” Agnes confirmed. “Sasha usually calls this time the ‘death game’ time. She would come in, yell ‘privet!’ and nobody would answer, because they’re all too busy trying to be rich. It’s all messy.” 

Agnes laughed again, rubbing a washcloth over the wooden surface of the bar, but Alaska didn’t laugh with her this time. Of everything Agnes said, there was a word, a single word, that stayed stuck in Alaska’s mind. It repeated itself over and over again on her ears, and it was impossible to ignore the ideas that it represented. 

Privet. 

It all made sense now. 

- 

It was 11:03 p.m. 

Pearl walked out of Velvet Sky with a long sigh, grasping the fabric of the knees of her purple dress to avoid tripping on it. The street was luckily empty and the cold air hit her naked arms as soon as she crossed the glass doors, making her shiver for a moment before she noticed the blue Cooper patiently waiting in the darkness, with a driver that couldn’t be seen from her spot: exactly what she expected. 

“Just in time, Ms. Liaison,” miss Gia Gunn muttered once she pulled into the backseat. She turned with a cellphone in hand, offering an incoming call to Pearl. “It’s Ms. Del Rio. She wants to know how everything went.” 

“Thanks,” Pearl felt like she could finally breathe. She took the phone to her ear and closed the door as a signal for Gia to start the motor. “Pearl here.” 

“ _Liaison. I can’t believe I’m going to say this but I’m actually happy to hear you_ ,” Bianca’s voice bloomed with relief. “ _Please tell me none of you idiots got_ _hurt_ _or otherwise I’ll finish the job and kill you with my bare hands_.” 

“I didn’t see anything weird so I’ll guess everything was fine. I was supposed to be the first one out,” she explained. The car turned and Pearl looked through the window, trying to recognize more cars. “Alaska was at the bar, Sharon was with one of the ladies we studied this morning and Violet...” 

The line went to a dead silence. 

“ _Violet?_ _Chachki_ _what?_ ” Bianca demanded to know. More silence was everything she received. “ _Where was_ _Chachki_ _?_ ” 

Pearl bit her lower lip so hard the flesh burnt for a second. The hand that held the phone felt weak. 

“I don’t remember.” 

“ _What?_ ” 

“I don’t remember... I saw Violet when she walked in but Alaska said we shouldn’t be seen together so I went to the outside area and— I don’t remember seeing her after that,” she realized in a shaky whisper, looking down at the watch in her wrist. “I haven’t seen her since.” 

Silence filled the line again. Pearl’s eyes were shut, waiting for a response, anything Bianca had to say, to assure her that Violet was okay, although she knew expecting comforting words was something just unrealistic. 

“ _I’ll call Needles and_ _Thunderfuck_ _to check on her._ ” 

The call ended right after. 

Gia drove to an empty park, all the way to an alley before another street started and where the public lighting wasn’t enough to cover the space, and stopped the car under a tree. That was the meeting point. They were supposed to wait until the other three cars arrived, before midnight, so everyone would return together. 

Pearl just wondered if she could stand being there until midnight. 

- 

It was 11:17 p.m. 

Alaska recognized Alyssa Edwards’ black vehicle stopped in front of Velvet Sky in a second. She looked around one more time, just to make sure there were no unwanted eyes, and walked over the door. The cold night mixed with the good results that her little research provided was efficient to eliminate the tension of the previous days. 

But that calm was shattered like a baseball bat hitting thin glass when she pulled into the car and Alyssa didn’t start the motor, not even though Alaska had already greeted her with a goodnight. 

“Alyssa, is there a problem?” she questioned after a brief silence. “Because the car isn’t moving.” 

Alyssa hesitated before pulling a phone from the pocket of her coat. She dialed a number and held the phone out to the backseat in an automatic movement. 

“Ms. Del Rio instructed me to stay here,” Alyssa explained, her voice small. “She wants to make sure everything is fine.” 

Alaska accepted the phone wordlessly. A couple of seconds after it was pressed against her ear, in the middle of the thick silence of the car that was slowly filling with Alaska’s nerves, Bianca’s voice sounded. 

“ _Thunderfuck_ ,” she sharply called. “ _Who’s supposed to go out after you?_ ” 

Alaska blinked a couple of times. “Violet. She’s after me.” 

“ _I want you to stay there until she goes out. Get it?_   _I don’t know if something is wrong but if it does she could be in trouble_.” 

“Get it.” 

The call ended with a quick tap of Alaska’s finger over the screen. She gave the phone back to Alyssa to return her entire attention to the glass doors, eyes traveling around every centimeter they could reach. Violet was supposed to go out after her, only minutes before 11:30, and being 11:21 meant she still had nine minutes to be out. 

“C’mon kid,” she whispered, nails tapping eagerly into the window. “Don’t fuck this up.” 

- 

Minutes passed. They passed and people walked out of Velvet Sky laughing and stumbling into the asphalt to disappear into the darkness and Violet was still nowhere to be seen. Alaska’s fingers started hurting from how hard she pressed into the window, Alyssa’s head hanging from one side to another as she tried her best to stay awake at the steering wheel. 

“Alyssa.” 

At the sudden call, the woman blinked a couple of times. 

“Yes, Ms. Thunderfuck?” 

“Who’s driving Needles tonight?” 

Alyssa froze for a second. 

“I think that’s Sam.” 

Just as the words left her mouth, the street was slightly lit by a car in dark paint passing in front of the doors. It stopped for the exact necessary time for a blurry tall figure to come out and pull into the backseat, so quickly and precise Alaska had to squint to make sure it was Sharon. 

“Call him,” she commanded and tapped Alyssa’s shoulder. “Call him now. I need to speak with Needles.” 

The sleep seemed to be kicked out of Alyssa as she obeyed wordlessly. Alaska kept her eyes on the car, which moved forward only to turn at the corner and finally stop. The phone was returned to her with an already started call. 

“ _What_ _is going on_ _?_ ” was the first thing Alaska heard, by Sharon’s tired voice at the other side of the line. “ _Are you getting Bianca’s habits of calling after everything?_ ” 

“Sharon, I think we might have a situation.” 

“ _Something is fucked up, you mean?_ ” Sharon swore instantly. “ _What is it?_ ” 

“Violet’s not out yet,” Alaska spoke, slowly and firmly, her eyes quickly going from the still closed doors to Sharon’s figure marked through the window of the car with the public lighting of the street. “Did you see her?” 

“ _I didn’t. Fuck, Alaska, it’s almost midnight. If the cops decide to mark the curfew and enter to the casino.._.” 

Alaska drew in a sharp breath. 

“I know, I know...” 

It has just been a second. Alaska had taken a second to rub her temple, maybe in a desperate attempt to get an idea of what to do, that a sound from the other side of the line made her senses snap instantly. Her eyes flew to the car at the corner of the street, and Sharon’s dark figure wasn’t visible from the window because it was now outside, walking back to the casino. 

The hand that kept pressed the phone into Alaska’s ear froze for a second just like the rest of her body, but she forced herself to respond when she noticed Sharon still had Sam’s phone against her ear. 

“Sharon, what? What the fuck?” she hissed. “What are you doing?!” 

“ _Isn’t it obvious?_ ” without stopping her walking, Sharon shot a quick look to Alaska’s startled face through the window. “ _I’m saving that kid_.” 

She tapped into the screen to end the call before Alaska was able to say anything. 

- 

Violet had thought about that night as a success. Although she knew it was too much to ask, she expected at least that Bianca would be proud when she knew that Violet had walked around Velvet Sky with a fake name and a fake personality as she told fake stories and drank in the middle of friendly games that exchanged tons of money, the glasses where her delicious drinks were served collided with the glasses of other people in every toast as she heard them speaking about how great Velvet Sky was. And of course, she had managed to dig into the conversation until it reached a point where Sasha Velour was the center of it. 

In her first night out, Violet thought she really did success. She could be assigned to new tasks now— maybe she could go with Sharon and Alaska to one of those small trips where they found people that had unfinished business with Bianca. That always sounded exciting, but she knew she had to work for it. 

Violet was sat in a stool of the outside bar of the casino between two men that laughed along with her as they told different stories about the casino since apparently, they were very close clients to it. They were fun to chat with, she couldn’t deny it, especially since they offered to buy her a couple of drinks. She finished her drink and looked down at her watch, lips pursing when she realized she should be preparing to leave if she wanted to be out on time. 

“Well, gentlemen,” she sweetly hummed. “It has been fun.” 

“Oh, it has been really fun,” one of them, Violet didn’t bother to memorize their names but who recognized by short ginger hair, agreed automatically. 

Violet looked up from the watch to give them an apologetic smile. “I have to go now. I promised my roommate I’d be home before midnight.” 

“Wait, what?” the other one had blonde hair that reached his shoulders, and looked too drunk to argue properly. “No! You can’t leave, we’re having so much here. Who are you? Cinderella?” 

The ginger haired one mocked his friend with a short laugh as he nodded at Violet, placing a hand tightly around her arm. “Yeah, why don’t you stay?” 

“I don’t think you understand,” Violet’s smile had gone by the second he dared to touch her, a deathly serious expression showing instead. “I really need to go.” 

The blonde snorted and shrugged. As he walked away, with his drink loyally in his hand, he whispered something about ungrateful some girls were that she decided to ignore. Instead, she preferred to focus on the hand still around her arm. 

“Let me go,” she asked him, still saving some calm in her voice due the outside bar still had some people walking around. Her will to keep calm disappeared when his grip tightened around her skin. “I said let me go.” 

“Why are you playing so hard to get?” he hissed on her face. She pulled of her arm but he desisted, pulling harder and making her entire body shake over the stool. 

Violet couldn’t understand why it felt so difficult to pull her arm back. Her limbs felt weaker and heavier the more she tried to free herself, almost as if they were covered by cement that was getting dry ridiculously fast. She finally achieved to get her arm out of his hand with a desperate pull and jumped out of the stool but as soon as she got into her feet, she regretted the movement. 

The room started spinning. The noises became unrecognizable. The figures around were like a blurry flash flying before her eyes. She tried to move but her shaky legs had to direction and with every step she felt closer to fall. 

Her arm was trapped into another grip. Every sound that get to her ears seemed to pass through sand, but she could recognize the voice of the ginger haired man, although she wasn’t sure what he was saying, or where he was taking her when he wrapped his arm around her and forced her to walk, following an unknown path that was definitely far away from the main door. 

“Wow, I’m so sorry lady!” a waiter gasped when he almost collided with Violet’s collapsing body, frowning when he got no other response than an incoherent whimper from her. “Are you okay?” 

The ginger man by her side snickered as he held her against his body. “She is, my wife just drank too much.” 

Violet tried to protest, but the words couldn’t come out, and the boy walked away before she could ask for help. She forced her eyes to stay open as they crossed the outside area to the backdoor that headed to the parking lot, or at least that’s what she thought it was, judging by the ball shaped flashes that she could appreciate and which were probably the lights of the cars. 

“Here, my car is just some meters away,” his voice was like a high-pitched bell chiming on her sensitive ear. 

Something had happened. Violet guessed so when he stopped moving, and as a consequence she stopped moving as well. Her body was suddenly released from his grip, but before it could fall to the ground, her back slammed against a metallic surface. She tried to hold onto anything that was close to settle herself, but nothing could stop her surroundings from shape-shifting, colors mixing before her eyes. 

“Help,” she begged. Although it was meant to be a scream, she knew it probably came out of her mouth as barely a whisper. “Help, please help me.” 

But she didn’t expect that her whisper was actually heard by someone. Warm hands held her face delicately, and the colors and shapes stopped exploding in her vision, and the world around her stopped spinning so fast. 

“I’m here, you’re good. I’m going to help you, okay?” 

Violet couldn’t tell if it was a dream or not, because in front of her was the last person she hoped to see, but accepted their firm hug anyways.


	7. The American dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood for blood, now this is a war... revenge is such a delicious feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't apologize enough for posting this so late. i'm so sorry! i lost a little of inspiration BUT DON'T WORRY BECAUSE SHE CAME BACK AND SHE'S STRONGER THAN EVER! i really hope you're liking the story so far! i'll bring you some action next chapter because honestly WE NEED IT. oh and some fluff bc it's necessary too! and maybe another prison character? UHHH I WON'T SPOIL MORE LMAO THANK YOU FOR READING!

Violet didn’t remember a night where she had slept so bad in years. Her back started aching the second she noticed she was awake, lost as she kept her eyes closed, trying to adjust to the slight pain that filled her entire body. The light filtering through her eyelids was becoming annoying as her headache increased. She tried to shift over the bed to turn around and escape from it, but she found herself being too weak to even do the attempt. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty. I know you’re awake.” 

That voice... it worked as a trigger that unchained millions of functions in Violet’s mind that had been turned off until that second. She forced herself to slowly open her eyes and blinked a couple of times to get used to her shining surroundings. 

Part of the realization of her location came luckily fast. She was in her room at Bianca’s mansion, with the same plain walls and soft bed that she knew, the only difference being Alaska’s figure sitting at her feet. Violet raised her head, ignoring it was throbbing, and admired the serenity in her face and mug in her hand. 

Meters away from Alaska, carefully placed over a wooden chair at a corner of the room, the dress Violet had worn to go to Velvet Sky was found, along with the jewelry she had been given. She glazed down only to discover she had been dressed with white shorts and a shirt. 

Immediately blurry and incomplete images of last night started invading her head, waiting anxiously to be completed, but there was no way Violet could bring any of those images to a destination. There were sounds and places she didn’t even could remember knowing, voices and textures she wasn’t sure if were real or not. 

“Hi,” she finally murmured, her voice coming out dry and harsh. 

“Seems like you need something to drink,” Alaska mocked. “There’s no water here I’m afraid, do you want some coffee?” 

She offered her mug but Violet shook her head, clearing her throat and hoping her saliva would smooth it eventually. Her dry mouth could wait; she needed answers. 

“Uh, what happened—?” 

“Last night?” Alaska filled. She sipped from her mug before replying, eyeing the younger woman thoughtfully. “Long story. How much do you remember?” 

“Honestly?” Violet sighed. “Not much. There was an asshole at the bar who wouldn’t let me go, it was late, almost midnight, I had to go and then— I don’t remember anything. Literally anything. Only like... colors and some noises, but nothing specific.” 

Alaska nodded. There was a long pause between short sips to her coffee. 

“Are you aware of the fact you were drugged, Violet?” 

The simple question made Violet’s head whip up. 

“What?” 

“When Bianca’s doctor came she said she had never seen something like that before. It must’ve been a new drug or whatever that guy put into one of your drinks, but it should be out of your system by now,” she explained plainly. “He wanted you to be out of yourself so he could take you with him, that’s why you don’t remember anything.” 

Violet rubbed her eyes for a second to hide from Alaska’s glare, sighing deeply as she mumbled. “I think I remember some of that. Fuck. God, how didn’t I realize before? I’m so stupid...” 

“It’s not your fault,” Alaska stated as if it was obvious. “Some gross asshole can’t accept a no.” 

“I should’ve been fucking alert of my drink.” 

“You were doing your job.” 

“But I could’ve fucked everything up! Or maybe I did fuck everything up!” she finally snapped. When she looked up, Alaska noticed her blushed face product of pure frustration. “How could I’ve let this happen?” 

“Okay, stop it. Look at me,” Alaska’s voice lowered. “It wasn’t your fault, okay? There’s no valid reason to blame you, you have to learn that. Now what matters is that you’re okay and none of this will have repercussions for you.” 

“But—” 

“I said: don’t blame you,” she almost hissed. Violet couldn’t do more but nod at the firmness of her tone. “You know who dragged you out of the casino? Do you even remember that?” 

Violet shook her head. “I don’t. Was it Pearl?” 

“Not really. She was the first one out and had to go to the meeting point first,” Alaska managed to wince in a pure act of empathy. “She didn’t leave your side all night, though, if you wanna know. She only left when it was six a.m., she couldn’t keep her eyes open.” 

“Was it you, then?” 

“Fuck, no,” Alaska couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Is it that hard to picture Sharon doing a good thing?” 

“What?” Violet frowned, shaking her head a couple of times. “Wait, really? She... she went back for me?” 

“That’s right. She went back before midnight to drag you out of there. We were glad as hell she did; cops arrived exactly right after to check into the place, but we were already going.” 

“But I thought she hated me.” 

“Well, she might,” Alaska shrugged with a little smile that made Violet’s shoulders relax as she smiled too. “Just kidding. She doesn’t hate you, she just... treats you as a friend in her own unique way. I know ‘her way’ is crappy sometimes, but she doesn’t hate you. She wouldn’t have gone back if she did.” 

Still smiling, Violet nodded. 

“That’s very nice to hear. I’ll talk to her when I see her.” 

Alaska’s smile was gone before she could finish. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you. Actually, I’ll advice you to not mention anything more than a ‘thank you’.” 

“Why not?” 

“Last night brought some memories back. Memories of bad old days, that’s all.” 

“Is it... is it a prison story again?” Violet couldn’t hide her curiosity, sitting straight on the bed, but quickly clearing her throat when she realized the indiscretion of her action. “I mean, if it’s not too much to ask.” 

Her tone was low, almost afraid of the answer. Alaska gave her a concerned look. 

“You’re obsessed with those stories. Why?” 

It wasn’t hard to tell that the question, especially formulated in that icy tone, had startled Violet. She snorted and shook her head, shrugging, she tried her best to look at least a little offended by the forwardness. 

“It’s nothing. I was just asking.” 

“Yeah, but it happens that you’ve ‘just asked’ enough times for me to count,” Alaska pointed out. Her accusing eyes and flat tone still made shivers run down Violet’s spine. “Look, let’s make a deal. I tell you everything, and you tell me why you’re so fond to prison. I think we all win with that.” 

It sounded simple. Well, in the slightly mocking voice that Alaska used to speak to Violet as if she was truly a child, everything sounded simple. She accepted with a nod: she didn’t even have to consider it. Maybe she knew that Alaska was going to find out about her little secret anyways. 

“Well...” Violet breathed, looking down at the soft covers of her bed. “All my life I’ve wondered what prison is like... because I feel close to it. In a weird way, I feel close to it because... my mom was in prison when she gave birth to me.” 

If there was a list of the things Alaska had imagined, that wouldn’t have been even an option. Her face remained stony, her fingers pressing harder on the mug being more than enough to show her surprise. 

“She was raped by her uncle. So he would be... my father,” she continued, gulping in a long pause. “Her family didn’t believe her, and kicked her out. They left her to live on the streets, taking food from dumpsters and recurring to stores to steal some money... she was caught stealing from a boutique and arrested. Three months later, I was born in the Atlanta state prison’s nursery. I was a—” 

“A  _prison baby_ ,” Alaska’s lips pursed. “That’s how they were called. Unfortunate babies who were taken from their mother’s side as soon as they were born.” 

Violet nodded, a mixture of sorrow and shame reflecting in her eyes. “I was taken with my grandfathers, which is funny, because they never really fancied the idea of taking care of me but they couldn’t do anything about it. I grew up not knowing shit about my mom because they never took me to visit her until one day someone called to inform that she had been killed in a fight with another prisoner,” a single tear fell down her cheek, but her voice didn’t even tremble. “I like to hear about prison because I can picture how she lived like. How her world was like. I... shit, I would’ve loved to meet her. Even if she was in prison, I wouldn’t have minded. I would’ve been the happiest kid in the world anyways.” 

The words came out of her mouth and floated in the tension of the bedroom, then banishing in a deep silence. Only minutes after, Violet’s eyes went up slowly to lock with Alaska’s when she felt her hand being affectionately squeezed between her free hand. 

“I’m sorry you went through that, kid,” she cooed. Her voice had lost its previous sharpness. “But hey, you went through all that shit and you somehow managed to survive until now, doesn’t that count?” 

Alaska didn’t have a good way to comfort people— probably because she never really cared to learn how to do it, thinking she wasn’t even going to need it, but her effort seemed to work out quite right. After all, the weak grin on Violet’s lips was the best proof to it. 

- 

 **Three years before.**  

 _“That was a bitch move!”_  

 _A loud cackling echoed through the too close to each other grey walls of the cell._ _Katya’s_ _smile grew across her face as Ginger frowned in defeat, seeing her celebrate another victory. Poker cards with burnt edges that showed their age and a weird smell were spread over the little metallic table that shook every time_ _Katya_ _threw hers in excitement._  

 _“You have to accept when you’ve lost! Oh, life is full of disappointment. I’m_ _so_ _sorry for you, Ginger, the universe seems to fool you again,”_ _Katya_ _cooed with genuine pity, receiving a gesture by Ginger’s middle finger nonetheless. “That’s very rude! Back in Russia my momma would have you clean the floors with your own toothbrush for that.”_  

 _“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but your momma sounds even scarier than you,” gathering the cards for a new game, Ginger assured. “Ready for a new round?”_  

 _From the other side of the cell, comfortably_ _lying_ _on the thin sponge of her bed above Ginger’s, Sharon looked_ _away from the ceiling_   _for the first time in the day and breathed out a little laugh._  

 _“What’s the point in playing if you know_ _Katya_ _is gonna win?” she wondered._  

 _It wasn’t a secret_ _Sharon_ _hated the_ _noise and hype that the_ _little gatherings Ginger organized in their cell to play cards with_ _Katya_ _provoked_ _, and the least she thought she could do to make her annoyance noticeable was bothering her cellmate._  

 _“Shut it,_ _Coady_ _!” Ginger hissed, shuffling the cards in fast, flawless movements. “Don’t distract me. I’m gonna win this time.”_  

 _“You always say that and yet the only person I’ve seen winning against_ _Katya_ _is Alaska,” she mumbled, shrugging. Ginger cursed under her breath when she realized she had messed up giving_ _Katya_ _more cards than she should_ _._   _Sharon grinned at her achievement._  

 _“I said: don’t distract me!”_  

 _“Speaking about Alaska... I haven’t seen that long blonde nestle of hair in hours, where is she?”_   _Katya_ _titled her head, taking the cards from Ginger’s hands to shuffle them herself._  

 _“At the library, probably? Some people actually work, unlike you, Kat,” the chubby woman snickered and Sharon nodded to agree with her._  

 _“My work here is to emphasize the greatness in the auras of my fellow prisoners. It’s a hard job, but someone’s gotta do it!” she defended with a small pout. “And I know she works, but she usually gets out at three, I think it’s a little late.”_  

 _Something in her tone was serious, which was definitely weird for_ _Katya_ _. Sharon finally_ _sat straight_ _after_ _considering._ _She leaned out of her bed to Ginger’s and took the watch she knew the woman kept under her pillow, frowning when she realized it was nearly six._  

 _“_ _Katya_ _is right,” she murmured. “It’s late. Alaska said she’d be back to the poker game.”_  

 _“She could’ve gotten stuck with something?” Ginger proposed. The cards on the table in front of her were suddenly forgotten._  

 _“I’m gonna go look for her,” Sharon decided with a scowl. “There isn’t anything that she could get stuck with for three hours. I know that.”_  

 _Katya_ _bit her lower lip so hard it went white, looking at Ginger with an anxious expression that Ginger couldn’t decipher, and even though they both shared the same bad feeling about the situation, none of them said a word as Sharon jumped out of bed and walked out of the cell._  

 _Usually, at that hour, the hallways and common rooms of the prison weren’t too crowded. Sharon made her way to the library between small pauses to ask the convicts that remained around if they had seen Alaska. Mainly all of them stepped back and stuttered negative responses at the fright that her determined_ _mien_ _provoked, which only made her grunt and move on faster until she finally reached the library._  

 _The two doors were closed and the whole hallway was empty, which was still under the radar as common. Sharon walked to push one of the doors open, poking her head inside the well illuminated room only to find out that every aisle was as empty as the hallway. Still could be considered common._  

 _But then... there was no one behind the counter._  

 _That wasn’t common. If Alaska wasn’t there, that other girl Max usually took her place, but the library was never completely alone unless it was closed._  

 _“Alaska?” Sharon tried to call, but the only response she was given was her voice losing across the aisles full of books. “Alaska, are you here?”_  

 _If she wasn’t there, her cell was probably the best place to go after. Maybe they just forgot closing the damn room. Sharon was about to close the door again when a weak whimper caught her attention. She frowned, moved the door back and forth to check if it was the material who made such a curious noise, but it didn’t repeat right away. In fact, it didn’t repeat until she stood motionless to study the silence that filled the library that another, quieter whimper could be heard._  

_After a couple of seconds, Sharon decided to walk slowly to the counter, where the sound seemed to come from. Her brows narrowed as she eyes some books that were suspiciously dropped on it in a way that she knew Alaska or Max wouldn’t allow: they were ripped sheets and some broken covers around..._

_Then she saw it._  

 _It was almost unrealistic. Like a dream, like an image product of the mind in the worst nightmare possible, like something Sharon could’ve seen after doing too many lines in the wrong time at a party months ago. But right now there was no coke in her system to blame_ _after the image of_ _blood ma_ _king_ _a path down Alaska’s nose and mouth, forming a puddle under her head over the marble floor of the library that coated part of her blonde hair._  

 _Alaska’s legs were bent in a position that was surely painful, almost as if she was dropped from certain height, but in the middle of her unconsciousness peace filled her face. If there weren’t bruises and bright red hand prints covering every visible part of her skin, with a fresh wound over her brow and a broken lip, anyone could’ve thought she was asleep._  

 _“Fuck, no, no, no,” Sharon wanted to run, but her knees felt unsteady the more she approached the motionless body. She practically threw herself to the floor, crouching down to cup Alaska’s face in her hands, as delicately as she could since she feared any simple touch could break her. “Alaska, for fuck’s sake, what the hell happened to you?”_  

 _The slight movement on her chest indicated she was still breathing. Sharon’s voice made her eyes flutter open for a brief moment, her bloodshot orbs silently pleaded for help as a soft grunt left her lips._  

 _“I...”_  

 _“No, shut up, don’t tire yourself up,” Sharon spat immediately, grimacing painfully as she noticed the effort it took for Alaska to speak. “I’ll get help.”_  

 _Alaska’s hand, coated in a mix of red and purple, reached_   _Sharon’s_ _arm before_   _she_ _could stand up._

 _“Willam,” she managed to blurt. “Get Willam.”_  

 _Sharon_ _nodded eagerly. She didn’t want to leave Alaska, but there wasn’t much she could do from_ _her position_ _. She_ _helped Alaska to turn on her side so she wouldn’t drown in her own blood_ _, despise the whimpers of pain_ _that only gave a hint that probably some of her ribs, hoping not all of them, were broken_ _,_   _and_ _stormed out of the library._  

- 

Just when Alaska stopped talking abruptly, Violet gasped in pure horror. 

“Oh my god, but what… what happened to you?! What happened then?” 

Alaska’s eyes were lost somewhere in the white sheets. She sighed, balancing the mug that was almost empty on her hand, the remaining liquid still releasing a thin line of vapor that flew above her face. 

“I don’t really remember. I bothered someone and got a taste of my own medicine for poking the bear, I guess. Shit happens,” she deadpanned after a shrug. Violet nodded, although she didn’t seem to buy it entirely. “The point is that is always better to forget this kind of things. Do you understand?” 

“I won’t mention it to Sharon,” Violet promised. 

Two short knocks on the door sounded, cutting the conversation and Alaska’s still unknown response. Their heads turned only to meet a tall, ebony haired woman, who eyed both of them with blissful foreignness to their chat. Behind her, stood the shy figure of Pearl, her blonde hair barely showing behind the shoulder of the other woman. 

“Good morning, Violet. I’m glad to see you’re awake and comfortable. I’m Raja Gemini,” was how she politely introduced herself, walking over the bed to shake her hand. “I’m Bianca’s doctor, she called me last night to check on you.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Violet mumbled. “How is everything now?” 

“Judging by your face, is great, but I’d like to check a few things before I leave. The drug should be out of your system by now,” she briefly explained and Violet smiled, locking eyes with Pearl, who looked just as excited as her. 

“Well, I should be going,” Alaska cleared her throat, and turned at Violet one more time before padding out of the room. “Get well soon, kid.” 

- 

It was kind of pathetic, in Sharon’s opinion, how she always ran to the same place whenever she was upset, or bored, or thinking of bullshit she shouldn’t. And it was kind of pathetic, again, how she was in a hurricane of those three circumstances at the same time right now. 

Luckily, as long as her fists were punching the rough fabric of the bag in front of them, and her entire limbs were coated in a numb feeling, head banging back and forth with raw freedom, sweat relieving her burning skin, she didn’t have to mock her pathetic self who depended on training for distraction as a baby depended on their mother. 

The routine was going great. Her motions were swift and simple. The morning light snuck into the room through the only window there, sunlight falling over her back, the world moved back and forth towards the punchbag and looked bright. 

But something dared to interrupt her beloved euphoria. 

Her vision became blurry. In a second, an intermittent aching took over her head, attacking her distracted senses. Sharon blinked; the world passed from moving back and forth to spin way faster than it should. Soon the whole room became a flash that she could barely recognize as she balanced her body and grabbed into the punchbag to fight the lack of equilibrium. Her lungs didn’t have time to grab air and her knees bucking didn’t help her shaking legs neither. 

A firm hand wrapping around her waist pulled her back up before she could fall. 

“Careful there,” Alaska warned. “Stop and breathe for a second. C’mon, just breathe in and out, you can do it.” 

Sharon wanted to try, but her surroundings moved were moving too fast and her head ached and her lungs burnt so bad to make even an effort. She closed her eyes and let out a series of shaky coughs. 

“Let’s get you to the chair,” Alaska suggested. 

Although Sharon nodded, she wasn’t really helpful, since she let Alaska drag her across the room as she cursed under her still erratic breath, eyes still shut. As soon as she was settled on the chair, she threw her head backwards, grumbling about her aching head as Alaska reached over to untie her gloves. 

“My hero,” Sharon joked, ironizing in a dry tone. 

“You sound like an old dog about to die,” she heard Alaska mumble, and barked a laugh that made sound like she was about to vomit. “You okay now?” 

“Yeah, I think so,” she rotated her neck, making some bones to crack. “It was just some nausea, it’ll go soon. I need to grab a shower.” 

Finishing to untie the gloves, Alaska tossed them aside and lifted her hand to brush some strands of hair that escaped the messy ponytail off Sharon’s face, lovingly tucking them behind her ear as she waited for her breathing to steady. 

“What you need is to stop abusing your body senseless,” she scoffed, but there was a glimpse of preoccupation hiding in her tone. 

Sharon opened her eyes only to roll them, but there was no true annoyance on her action. She smirked and nudged Alaska, laughing when she lost equilibrium and stumbled backwards, having to step back to steady her posture. 

“I wouldn’t have moved you an inch if you trained every day. That’s what happens when you quit; you became soft,” she explained. 

“Oh, you’re so full of crap,” Alaska shook her head as she crackled loudly. “It has been only two weeks since the last time I put on those stupid gloves of yours and I’m perfectly fine. Taking a break won’t kill you.” 

Her words made Sharon raise her brows. She knew Alaska was right, and that if she kept training like crazy for throwing stupid tantrums as she did, someday she was going to get her body into some real shit. Even Raja had warned her. But then why was it so hard to actually accomplish it? Why were all her coping mechanisms so inefficient? Weren’t they supposed to help? 

“Well, Lasky, who knows,” she shrugged tiredly, making every bit of the comedic atmosphere they had dived into, disappear completely. “It might.” 

Alaska sighed heavily, and then, the room sunk in silence. Sharon stared firmly at her lap, but still could sense Alaska’s eyes over her. Judging her, probably. Nobody really did know what Alaska thought when she stared at someone  _that_ way. And Sharon wasn’t used to be the one stared at. 

“What do you have in mind?” she asked after a while. 

“You won’t like it,” Sharon warned. “You’ll say it’s a bad idea.” 

Then, Sharon decided to look up. Any remain of stress faded from her shoulders as she saw a teasing smile growing into Alaska’s lips. 

“When are your ideas even good?”


	8. Blood for blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much pain can a person feel is an interesting question, with so many ways to be answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD. i know i said i was going to post more often, but i really wanted this chapter to be perfect and i edited it A MILLION TIMES! you have no fucking idea how tiring it was lmao. anyways! we're back to the good old days of action and flashbacks! i hope you enjoy this chapter and if you did pls let me know, u know any feedback is welcome. thanks for reading!

_Sharon,_ _Katya_ _and Ginger stood outside the gates to the nursery. Ginger was sighing every two minutes, rubbing her hands against each other over her stomach._ _Katya_ _tried to make a hole in the ground by walking in anxious circles, fingertips on her mouth, nails so abused by her teeth mostly all of them were bleeding. Finally, Sharon rested her back on the wall parallel to the door, staring arms-crossed through the glass to the same guard who had denied their entrance. If looks could kill, that poor girl would’ve been dead for a while now._  

 _The silence was broken by Ginger._  

 _“I don’t wanna do this, but...” she breathed. “Can we talk about the elephant in the room?”_  

 _Katya_ _stopped her walking abruptly to turn at her. “There’s no time for elephants, Ginger! I see tigers running across the backyard every day and you don’t see me talking about them now, do you?! Right now, Alaska could be dead!”_  

 _“She doesn’t mean an actual elephant,_ _Katya_ _,” Sharon deadpanned._  

 _“Although now I’m curious about those tigers you mentioned,” Ginger whispered, giving_ _Katya_ _a puzzled look, “I meant about why this happened. I know that guard Willam said it probably was some bitch of the psychiatric wing who went mad and took it on Alaska but I don’t buy that bullshit. Guys, this is too much to be an accident. This was a message.”_  

 _“A message?”_  

 _“Yes,” Ginger nodded at_ _Katya’s_ _concerned frown. “Like a warning. Do we know about any enemies that Alaska might have?”_  

 _“Alaska doesn’t have enemies,” Sharon stated. “She doesn’t get in trouble. Shit, half of the bitches here don’t even know who Alaska is. It’s ridiculous. Nobody here had reasons to beat the shit out of her like that.”_  

 _Ginger opened her mouth, but no more words came out. It was useless to_ _try to_ _change Sharon’s mind without any other proof._ _Katya_ _continued to walk, this time faster, around the hallway._  

 _Eventually, when the afternoon passed and guards came warning about the lights off, the three of them had to leave the nursery entrance._ _Katya_ _walked to her cell with hands shaking, not even saying bye to Sharon and Ginger, who walked to theirs in the middle of an uncomfortable silence. It was obvious the three had too much in their heads to speak... or to sleep._  

 _“_ _Coady_ _?”_  

 _Sharon was staring at the ceiling when Ginger’s whisper caught her attention. At the beginning, she thought it was only her sleep deprivation playing nonsense tricks on her, so she ignored it, sinking even more into the sponge of her bed._  

 _“_ _Coady_ _?” a hand came from underneath the bed to stroke her arm. “You awake?”_  

 _“Yeah.”_  

 _“Thinking about Alaska?”_  

 _Sharon sighed. “Yeah.”_  

 _“Me too,” Ginger confessed. “I’ve been... thinking of something_ _else_ _t_ _hough_ _.”_  

 _Sharon wondered if she really had to pretend having interest in whatever it was. She decided, for her sanity’s wellbeing, that she should._  

 _“What is it?”_  

 _“Well, you said Alaska doesn’t have enemies, right?” Ginger remarked, pausing for Sharon to hum positively. “Well... I was thinking... what if it_ **_wasn’t_** _her enemy?”_  

 _“Elaborate.”_  

 _“Sharon, the girls might not know Alaska, but they know you. And they know you two are very close. You know what I mean.”_  

 _Ginger never called her Sharon. Or lowered her voice like that._  

 _“Ginger...”_  

 _“You’ve drawn a lot of non-wanted attention,” she explained, quickly, before Sharon could react. “That girl you punched in the backyard. Or the one whose nose you broke on the showers. They all know you, and not all of them fear you, that’s all I’m saying. Who would’ve known Alaska comes to our cell after work? Someone who watches you. Who would’ve known you would go looking for her? Someone who wanted you to see her like that. It’s right in front of you, Sharon.”_  

 _It was right in front of her._  

 _And yet she didn’t want to see._  

 _“It’s my fault.”_  

- 

The long highway looked like an eternal snake made out of asphalt, with a desertic plain panorama around. The sunlight was intense enough to burn on skin, at least the wind running freely through the rolled down windows created a nice contrast. 

Alaska let out a soft grunt as her fingers pressed around the steering wheel, eyes feeling too heavy to blink without the temptation of staying shut. 

“How far is it?” 

Slowly sinking into the passenger seat, Sharon’s eyes flew from the clouds floating around the sky down to her lap, where she held a map. There was a spot marked with a big red circle made with old marker: an old motel outside Los Angeles that once was a crowded place, back in its golden days, or at least that’s what the booklet said. Sharon lifted the paper to her face for have a better look, using her finger to identify their current location. 

“Not very far... but not very close neither,” she sighed. Alaska swore in a whisper and she smirked, lowering the map back to look over at her. “Just to remind you, you insisted in taking this path. The other one was way shorter.” 

“And full of police cameras,” Alaska grumbled. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it correctly. We’re lucky Del Rio even accepted to help.” 

“We know she’s secretly a sucker for social justice,” Sharon teased. 

“Or maybe she just hates when we call while she’s in Azusa and accepts everything we ask for.” 

Sharon laughed, looking down at the map again. “Whatever it is, she already gave us all we needed.” 

Alaska agreed with a nod, pursing her lips to repress a giggle. 

They let the rest of the trip be full of tender silence, the only sound being the wind hitting the edges of the rolled down windows. The car Bianca provided them was freshly new, with near blue painting on the exterior and clean interiors with leather seats that smelt ridiculously good, and surprisingly, plates that didn’t appear in the federal record as stolen. At least she showed her will to help their cause. 

A mixture of white and indigo stood out in the monochromatic scenario of the hallway around half an hour after. A bright sign indicating they were approaching Young Living Motel became bigger and bigger as the car approached it. 

Alaska drove, passed the glass door covered by beige blinds with a sign that read ‘Reception’ and headed directly to the end of the parking lot, surrounded by the similar doors that could only be differenced with the golden numbers on them. Before Sharon could open the door, Alaska grabbed her arm. 

“You got everything?” she asked. 

Pushing her sunglasses up her nose, Sharon leaned over to pull a black bag that looked naturally heavy from underneath her seat. She zipped it open and started to inspect its content, fumbling into the several items before humming happily. 

“We’re good. Let’s go.” 

Sharon and Alaska looked around before pulling out of the car. The parking lot was empty, with only three cars that luckily were far enough to not be considered a bother, and all the doors to the rooms closed. Alaska locked the car and Sharon gestured to the staircase. 

“This way. I swear I saw the door from the car,” Sharon assured, pulling of Alaska’s arm to guide her. 

They turned to the left once they were on the second floor, and Sharon started walking even faster, eyeing all the doors they passed by as Alaska tried to keep up with her pace. 

Finally, they stopped in front of the door marked with the numbers 415. 

“Are you sure this is the room?” Alaska inquired, poking her head around only to make sure the second floor, just like the parking lot, remained empty. 

“Look at this,” Sharon shoved a hand into the bag and pulled out a paper, handing it to Alaska as she fumbled for something else. 

Alaska sighed, looking down at the item in her hands. The paper was nothing else than a plastic booklet, publicity for the old motel, some images of their rooms and their location, the phrase ‘we’re so far from the city for convenience’ made her chuckle. Finally, she noticed something written in blue ink at the reverse of the booklet. A word and three digits: ‘room 415’. 

How Sharon managed to steal it from Violet’s attacker was still a mystery. 

“Great,” she took her knife from the back pocket of her jeans, replacing them with the booklet. 

“Before we go in,” Sharon’s gun was on her hand, firmly held by her head as she muttered, “Thanks for coming with me.” 

“Perhaps we’re all suckers for social justice,” Alaska joked before knocking on the door. 

Sharon held the gun with both hands as she pointed at the same direction with the near blade of her knife ready to dig into whatever was put in front of it. After Alaska knocked, for a moment there was nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing, and she knocked again. Harder. 

“Damnit, I’m going!” someone shouted from the other side of the door. “Fuck Trevor, why do you always come over without telling me first? Do you—” 

The poor Michael Harris barely had a flash of the sight outside his room before the door pushed him and Sharon’s gun hit directly to his forehead. The punch provoked a raw sound from his skull; he stumbled backwards, raising a hand in a desperate attempt to hold into the doorframe before the blade of Alaska’s knife sunk into his hand, exactly at the center of his palm. He didn’t have chance to scream before Sharon lifted her hand and smacked the back of the gun against his temple one more time, the impulse pushing her arm back with enough force to make her step back. 

The muscles of his neck moved just like a spring, producing a violent crack. It was only matter of time before his knees gave in and his body dropped motionless over his bent legs. Sharon grinned and rotated her wrist to relieve the tension on her tendons. Her gun shined with a deep red liquid covering part of it, dripping until it reached her elbow. 

“That will do for now, but we have to be quick,” Alaska reminded her. “I’ll check the room. Can you manage this?” 

“I’m offended you have to ask.” 

Alaska placed a small peck on her lips before she entered the room, walking over the small red puddle already forming around his head and hand. Sharon sighed and leaned over to slide the knife out of his hand to shove it into her pocket, making a mental note to clean it later. She pulled from his arm to carry him inside, closing the door behind her. 

- 

Horror started rising up from Michael’s chest from the moment he woke up from his slumber. Shattered eyes opened only to find himself restrained. Cords kept his cramped limbs spread across the bed, tying his ankles and wrists to its posts. He tried to get free by shaking his arms violently, but the only result he got with the slightest physical effort was pain pounding into his head. 

There were so many things, like the pounding pain taking over his head, or the way blood spilled freely from a hole on his destroyed hand, but he couldn’t focus on any of them. His reactions were slow, his surroundings still hard to process. He needed to know what was happening. Screaming seemed to be the best option to do next, despite how badly his throat hurt when he tried to do it, or how distorted his voice sounded. His eyes watered, holding into the burning feeling that tortured his throat as he desperately called for help. 

“Oh God, could you shut the fuck up?” Alaska groaned the instant he started screaming. She sat leg-crossed on one of the two chairs in the room, ignoring the whimpers that came after his shouting for the effort he did. Her face softened and she smiled. “I’m sorry, it’s nothing personal. I just fucking hate noise.” 

His body seemed to wake up. First his senses, then his ability to react. Although his brain commanded him to say something, the walls of his throat burnt as if they were under fire. He gulped a couple of times, coughing desperately, before spitting a dry curse that Alaska couldn’t understand quite well. 

After a couple of failed attempts, he had managed to smooth his cough. “What the fuck?!” was the first thing he spat. His body squirmed over the red stained sheets, or at least what it could squirm. “Who the fuck are you? Let me go, now!” 

“Uh. I may be picky, but that kinda sounded like an order,” she pouted, shaking her head in a mock warning. “I don’t think you haven’t figured out this yet, Michael, but you don’t get to give orders anymore. I’ll guess you’re not used to be in this position— you’re not usually the one tied up, are you?” 

Whatever was his answer perhaps showed his hatred, but Alaska couldn’t know; he cut himself off with a painful whimper. His head shook back and forth as his chest moved abnormally fast, product of his messed breathing. 

The picture was a pure representation of despair. Resting her back on the wall, Sharon found herself admiring said picture, enjoying the sweat covering his flushed skin, veins standing out of his forehead, the texture was tempting to cut with a knife. Sharon’s hand palpitated Alaska’s knife still in her pocket, but desisted of the idea after a while: she had a plan to respect after all. 

“Do you know why we’re here?” she suddenly required. His attention finally fell on her, as he shook his head fervently. “Really? Not even an idea?” 

“No, I swear to God I don’t!” 

Sharon’s lips pursed. She turned at Alaska. “He doesn’t remember, Lasky,” in a pity voice, she informed. “What do we do?” 

“That’s terrible! We should do him a favor and refresh his mind,” Alaska nodded. Her big eyes seemed to burn through his soul, and worse than that, seemed to find strange satisfaction on his sorrow. 

“Sure. Let’s refresh his mind.” 

Michael sensed something changing into Sharon’s calm countenance. He tried to cry, his voice coming out as a dry squeak when she leaned forward and sharply cupped his face with a hand, forcing him to look up at her. Her nails were soon leaving red marks on his chin, the pain making him sink into the mattress. 

“Do you like abusing girls, Michael?” she demanded. “Drug them to leave them helpless? Powerless, voiceless? Does it make you feel good?” 

Even in his numb state, her words made his eyes flutter and mouth hang open. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he stuttered. “I swear— I swear I don’t know. I really don’t know!” 

“Stop swearing. I hate lies,” Sharon hissed. Her hand pressed so hard into his skin it became white. “Wasn’t that what you did at Velvet Sky a couple of nights ago? Do I need to punch the memories back into that dirty heard of yours?” 

He sobbed, breathless. “Okay, okay, okay, I did it! But I’m so sorry, I swear—” 

“Sorry?” scoffing, she shook her head in disbelief. “Disgusting pigs like you can’t be sorry. You weren’t sorry when you drugged that poor girl, you weren’t sorry when you carried her against her fucking will. You were never sorry.” 

“B-but I am! I’m deeply sorry!” his muffed voice crumbled as he choked on a sob. “Please, please forgive me, I’ll do anything!” 

Sharon’s face remained stony at his crying. “I’m not Jesus to forgive. I feel more like Satan... to punish.” 

Small red lines began forming around his chin, exactly underneath Sharon’s nails. Her hand was trembling for the excessive force she used, but that didn’t stop her from sliding her hand lower and press even harder, clawing now his neck. The screams spilled freely from his mouth, occasionally being interrupted by more sobs that echoed into the walls. 

“Maybe he should know what it feels like,” their heads turned to Alaska, who until that moment, had been watching wordlessly from her chair. “The best punishment he can get is a little of his own medicine. Don’t you think, Sharon?” 

Her voice had passed from sugary sweet to deathly serious, and Michael couldn’t bring himself to wonder if that was better or worse as she sprung from the chair and walked behind Sharon, resting her chin on the other woman’s shoulder as her hands wandered around her hips. The scene could’ve been cute, of course, if their eyes weren’t swallowing him just as two animals who had spotted their prey. 

He whimpered and squirmed, but Sharon’s grip on his neck was strong enough to keep him in place against the bed. She tilted her head, considering Alaska’s words for what seemed eternity. 

Finally, she showed all her teeth in a wicked grin. 

“Lasky, you always have the best ideas.” 

The praise went directly to Alaska’s returning smile. She pulled back and walked to a side of the room, grabbing the black bag from the floor. After fumbling through it for a couple of minutes, in which Michael tried, and failed miserably to control his breathing with Sharon’s hand still firmly wrapped around his neck, Alaska finally seemed to find whatever she was looking for. 

She dropped the bag back to the floor. Michael’s head whipped up at the sound, looking at her as she held a small brown glass flask. “Do you know what’s this?” 

Loud sobs were the only answer Alaska received. She sat at his feet, remaining silent to watch his reaction to her proximity: his face twisted in a painful grimace. Fear was almost possible to smell from his trembling figure and at this point he couldn’t decipher if it made her smile grow or it was just his paranoia. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” she remarked then. The flask rolled on her fingers as she played with it mindlessly. “This is hydrochloric acid. I have to be honest, I’m not very fond to Chemistry, but I think it’s an interesting compound. Especially one of its many uses. Did you know it’s extremely corrosive for skin? Even in the smallest of quantities it could be mortal! Seriously, it’s so fun.” 

Everything was slowly falling in place. 

Michael was finally able to gulp freely when Sharon let go of his neck to walk to the bathroom in the room. 

“Please, don’t do this— c’mon, if you go now I won’t tell anybody, I don’t even know your names!” he pleaded, but his begging passed unheard. Sharon was no longer in sight and Alaska was too focused on the flask in her hand. “I’ve only done it once. Once, I fucking swear! I wasn’t gonna hurt her!” 

Alaska sighed, rolling her eyes. She let the flask drop into her lap to lift her hand up his face and smack his cheek with enough force to make his face turn to a side. 

“I said I hate noise,” she scolded. 

When Sharon came back, she carried a medium size, full of clean water, plastic bottle. The simple object looked innocent. 

That until Alaska took it to pour half of the content of the flask on it. A couple of shakes were enough to mix both liquids. The result still managed to look innocent; colorless, like pure water. Pure water with deathly purposes. 

Michael pulled of his arms, desperately trying to get free. He tried squirming in a poor attempt to get away from that damned bottle, but it was useless; the cords already had marked themselves on his skin, and any more efforts surely were only going to tire him up. Bloodshot eyes pleaded silently as Alaska held the bottle above his head. 

“You’re going to drink this now,” Sharon commanded. “And when you feel your insides rotting, you’re going to be sorry for real.” 

His lips were shut tight, but that was no impediment for Sharon to violently grab his nose, covering both of his nostrils, and pull his head backwards. The lack of air became noticeable barely a minute after, when he shook his head furiously. 

He finally gave in and opened his mouth, but there was no chance to breathe before Alaska stuck the bottle to his lips. The liquid ran down his throat, even when he attempted to spit it, he only managed to choke around the bottle as Sharon held his head tighter. Once the bottle was downed, Alaska twisted it with both hands, bending the thin plastic until a it reached half of its original size and shoved into his mouth. 

She smiled, admiring the improvised gag working perfectly when his desperate screams were muffed successfully. His voice was soon deformed, loud cries turning into growls that shut off slowly as the acid drove through his throat. 

Sharon and Alaska stood before the bed for a while, watching with rapt attention the scene before them, what they had proudly done. There wasn’t much they could see more than his body writhing, tears streaming down his face one after another in wordless agony, but the pain, the preoccupation, the despair in his eyes was more than enough reward... only for a while. 

“Do you think it’s already dissolving his stomach?” Alaska thoughtfully asked. “It’s taking so long, you know, I thought it was faster. I’m getting bored.” 

“Me too. What a fucking disappointment,” Sharon pouted. 

Sighing, she pulled her gun out of her pocket and pointed at his head. The trigger was pressed and Sharon’s hand shook. When she lowered her hand, she saw Michael’s body motionless on the bed, another red puddle forming besides the one under his damaged hand. 

“Let’s go, we’re done here.” 

“Wait,” Alaska’s hand wrapped around her arm. “I want to show you something I discovered when I was checking his stuff.” 

There was a suitcase under the bed that Alaska had pulled out to register, and although Sharon wasn’t really that interested in its content, reason why she happily left that part to Alaska, she watched infatuated as she placed it over the nightstand and zipped it open. The reveal was a bunch of small cream-colored papers spilling out of the clothes and shoes that filled the suitcase. 

“Receipts,” Sharon frowned, taking some of them to have a better look. “What did he have that many?” 

“I think we had a little pickpocket at Velvet Sky,” explained Alaska. “He stole everything from that night. The receipts are all from a pawnshop. I couldn’t count them all, but he sold them ten watches, five collars, eight rings and other items of jewelry for an obscene quantity of money.” 

Sharon nodded, agreeing as she eyed the papers. 

“This is a lot. He really knew how to sell.” 

“And that’s not the best part,” Alaska pushed the clothes around and Sharon’s eyes widened. “He left all the money here.” 

Under them, carefully placed in columns, dollars covered the back of the suitcase. They were too many to count, but Sharon knew that the fact only made it better. 

“Fucking... hell.” 

“Do you still think all of this was a disappointment?” Alaska smirked. 

“Of course not,” she replied, excitedly taking a stack of money. Passing her fingers through the paper, her smile became even bigger. “Well, at least that idiot gave us something useful.” 

“Exactly,” Alaska poked her head around, looking for their bag. She walked by the bed, ignoring the blood dripping from the sheets staining her boots as she reached the bag and walked over to Sharon. “Can you imagine all we could do with this?” 

“I don’t want to just think of it, I want to spend it!” Sharon bit her lip, eyes lost in some point of the wall. “I already have some ideas.” 

Alaska giggled, muttering something about doing all of those ideas at some point under her breath. As they rushed to shove every single dollar into the bag, she looked over at Sharon, and smiling wide, broke the silence. 

“You know something?” 

“Hm?” 

“This wasn’t a bad idea after all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just an innocent question: which character would you like to know more about? i mean backstory! i'll be reading u <3


	9. Fury of a Saint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the storm, there's always calm. But sometimes, after the calm, another storm follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we have nothing more and nothing less than a flashback chapter! tbh i missed writing about this! also i wanted to tell you, i'm thinking about doing a small series of chapters of backstories of different characters of this fic because i've imagined ALL of those stories and i think it would be a waste to not actually write it lmao. that's why i asked you which characters you wanted to know a little more about :) of course i'll start with sharon and alaska and then go from there. anyways, thanks for reading<3

_Recovering had been hell, but weeks passed, and Alaska was finally able to go out of the nursery when the color of her_ _cheeks_ _went from purple to a healthier rosy. The only visible remaining of the episode was_ _a_ _little scar above her brow adorned with stitches_ _. T_ _hanks to the obligatory jumpsuit, the bruises around her body_ _were_ _only for her sight._  

 _Willam had accompanied her all the way around the prison. They walked slowly, calmly, and although Alaska knew deep in her chest that he only did so hoping to get news about Courtney, she couldn’t bring herself to care; some company after all these weeks was nice._  

 _“Did you talk to her?” he asked after a while of pure, dead silence._  

 _“A couple of times. Mostly at night, when all the doctors were gone and Courtney couldn’t sleep, we chatted from our beds.”_  

 _“Did she mention me?” Willam looked for a second over Alaska’s eyes, but her gaze remained glued to the front._  

 _“Yes. Sometimes. She misses you,”_ _she_ _sighed. “It’s eight months now, Will.”_  

 _“I know…”_  

 _“Do you know what it’s gonna happen once the baby is born?”_  

 _The question made him shrug with almost a painful expression._  

 _“I have no idea. I can’t be around her anymore. If someone finds out I’ll be fired and I really need this job, Alaska.”_  

 _“Willam, it’s your fucking child we’re talking about,” ignoring the pain on her limbs, Alaska lifted a hand to smack Willam’s arm, the lack of strength making it more like a small tap. “Courtney trusts you to take care of them while she’s here.”_  

 _“I know!” he repeated running a hand through his hair. “I’m trying, I swear. I’ll be close to them. I’ll get them nice things and I’ll take care of them. All my salary will go their medicine and toys.”_  

 _Alaska’s face softened, the corners of her mouth soon raising in a smile._  

 _“You’ll be a good dad,” she commented, receiving a grateful grin from him._  

 _“Thanks. Uh…” he poked his head around, making sure nobody was listening before adding; “I got your package to your cell. Luckily Delano was asleep, I left it under the table.”_  

 _He didn’t know if the mention of their monthly deal took her aback, but if it did, she didn’t let it show._  

 _“Okay. Thanks Will.”_  

 _Even though she had been drugged_ _in the morning_ _, her_ _back ached_ _. Apparentl_ _y_ _some of the drugs were not exactly to relieve the pain, but to fix any internal damage_ _, as the doctors said_ _. Alaska only knew they made her feel extremely focus on some things, and totally unaware of others_ _; it was a weird feeling that she luckily could ignore_ _._  

 _As_ _soon as she was walking freely through the corridors, she ignored Willam’s recommendations of going to her cell to lie down and went to find Sharon. The weeks without knowing of her seemed like an endless wait; Alaska needed to know how she had been doing, if she had been thinking of her just like Alaska did, if she had missed their night reunions and gathering to have breakfast and their poker games with Ginger and_ _Katya_ _and every single part of the damned routine they had._  

 _A pair of curious eyes seemed to follow Alaska from the instant the stepped into the common room. She jumped when two arms wrapped around her from behind, whimpering in pain as her damaged ribs were pressed by someone hugging her torso._  

 _“Is this my mind playing tricks or is this princess of long blonde hair real?! Alaska!”_ _Katya_ _cried into her shoulder. A few convicts turned around, their attention soon being dismissed when they realized it was just_ _Katya_ _. “I can’t believe you’re back, I think I just pissed myself!”_  

 _Tears were soon staining Alaska’s jumpsuit, but she remained unbothered. She managed her biggest smile at_ _Katya’s_ _words and lifted a hand to pet her short curly hair._  

 _“I’ve missed you too, Kat. We should catch up.”_  

 _“We do!”_ _Katya_ _nodded fervently, releasing Alaska from her tight hug. Her cheap mascara was all around her eyes and she wiped it away violently with the back of her hand. “But first, Sharon and Ginger have to see you!”_  

 _“Right, where are they?”_  

 _“Well,” sniffing,_ _Katya_ _pointed at the door of the administrative area. “Sharon’s in there getting a visit. Ginger must be busy at the kitchen with dinner now, she got a job there and now she’s suddenly too good for us. Don’t tell her I said that!”_  

 _There was something that made Alaska frown, and not process all the information. Sharon didn’t get visits. It was something she always stated, that she had no one out there that she wanted to see— but then, how much had changed those weeks? She gulped her curiosity down and let_ _Katya_ _hook up her arm with hers, dragging her across the room._  

 _The Russian was speaking too much and definitely too fast for Alaska to understand, but she appreciated the fact that_ _Katya_ _wanted her to know everything she missed when she was out. She said something about Fame getting a new lipstick and Max getting someone else to help her at the library (however, according to_ _Katya_ _, Alaska was better than the new girl) and that Adore had approached her days before to ask for Alaska. She actually spoke to someone! And it was to ask for Alaska! Of course, the news would’ve been as shocking as_ _Katya_ _intended if Alaska had been able to entirely focus on them in first place._  

 _Instead, she focused on scanning the entire hallway once they crossed to the administrative area, her eyes burning everything they met in a research for Sharon._  

 _“She’s getting a visit, you said?”_  

 _Katya_ _nodded. “She told us about it back in the morning. She seemed nervous... weird, isn’t it? I’ve never seen her nervous before. She didn’t even tell us who it was.”_  

 _The visit room was at the end of the long hallway, its door protected by two guards. Alaska had been inside only one time, when her mother went to remark how much of a disappointment she was at the beginning of her sentence. There was a window covering half of the wall that let the metallic tables lined up and the happiness in the faces of families getting together on them visible for Alaska and_ _Katya_ _._  

 _“_ _Zamolodchikova_ _,” one of the guards at the door called sharply, “What are you doing here? Were you told you have a visit?”_  

 _“Looking for a friend!”_ _Katya_ _replied easily._  

 _“You shouldn’t be here,” the other guard stated, but the first one shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder, silently telling him their presence there was innocent._  

 _Katya_ _pulled Alaska’s arm until she stopped before the window. They started looking across the tables in silence, the frown in Alaska’s face grew bigger as_ _Katya_ _sighed. She was distracted from her task of looking for Sharon, infatuated by the sight of convicts surrounded by their families, husbands, wives, kids, siblings. It was a nice sight to look at._  

 _“Sometimes I wish my sister visited me again. It was nice when she did,” she suddenly confessed._  

 _“Why did she stop?” Alaska asked plainly._  

 _“She’s busy, traveling for work, with her family,”_ _Katya_ _shrugged. Her gaunt expression stole Alaska’s rapt attention. “I think she even went back to Russia. I don’t know, she stopped sending letters as well, so who knows where she is now.”_  

 _“I’m sorry to hear that, Kat.”_  

 _Katya_ _giggled and shook her head, but Alaska knew perfectly the topic had touched something inside her that Alaska barely got to see; a side of_ _Katya_ _that contrasted her goofy usual self, a side that seemed dark and a side that Alaska wanted to make disappear for her friend’s wellbeing. Her mouth opened again, but before she could formulate any attempt of comfort words, her eyes stopped right in their tracks in a specific point of the room._  

 _“Who the fuck is that?”_  

 _The words spilled out of her mouth almost involuntarily._ _Katya_ _snapped out of sadness, her eyes following Alaska’s._  

 _“Is that Sharon’s dad?” she wondered, tilting her head to the side._  

 _“No. He would be the last person to visit her,” Alaska remarked. Of course she had thought of her dad before; what else could she think of the man sitting in front of her, whose hair was almost white? If it wasn’t her dad, the second option made her blood boil. “That’s her husband.”_  

 _Katya’s_ _mouth formed a small O. She hummed under her breath, asking if Sharon really did have a husband, but Alaska didn’t bother replying._  

 _The man’s perfectly smoothed suit, of an elegant black color with an indigo tie and a near white shirt that looked more expensive than half the prison, seemed out of place. However, he seemed to care more about rubbing Sharon’s hand over the table, a glint on his eyes as his fingers entwined with hers. She looked directly at him with a static smile and her back straight against the metallic chair as she nodded to everything he said. Whatever it was, he seemed extremely excited about it; the grin on his lips showed all his teeth before he leaned forward to kiss Sharon’s knuckles._  

 _Alaska’s fists clenched at her sides and_ _Katya_ _stepped back, startled by how bad she seemed to be holding herself from punching the window._  

 _“Uh?” she asked, placing a hand on Alaska’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”_  

 _The answer was obvious, but_ _Katya_ _needed to give it a shot anyways. Shutting her eyes for a second, Alaska sighed heavily, and her shoulders fell as she relaxed._  

 _“I’m fine,” her tone was cold. “Let’s go find Ginger.”_  

 _Katya_ _turned around to follow her back to the common room with no objection._  

 _“_ _Zamo_ _!” called the same guard at the door, interrupting their walking. “Come here for a second, I need you to get some papers to Ms. Mattel.”_  

 _“It’s okay, just go,” Alaska waved away_ _Katya’s_ _apologetic look. “See you later for dinner.”_  

 _She smiled weakly and started to walk away, promising to see her later._  

 _Alaska stood in her spot for a second. She pursed her lips and turned one more time, only to be met with the image of Sharon and that man laughing after something he said; Sharon’s head tilted backwards with her eyes shut and Alaska could almost hear her cackling, her hair bounced so beautifully Alaska’s heart dropped when he reached over to stroke it, Sharon leaning into his hand. Who did he think he was, making her laugh like Alaska did? He didn’t deserve to hear her sweet cackling. And who did he think he was touching her like Alaska did in their night visits? He didn’t deserve to feel her soft hair under his fingertips neither._  

 _There was a shiny spot in his finger: a ring that reminded Alaska that, in fact, he did deserve those things. Her stomach coiled: they were still married. Still. Who knew if it’d been negotiable at some point._ _Trixie_ _had said Sharon pretended to regret hurting him at court, but now Alaska doubted it. Perhaps she didn’t preten_ _d_ _. Perhaps she had realized she loved him and now he was going to get her out of there so they could go back to their rich life together. It wouldn’t be a problem for him to get some deals done and Sharon free in a couple of days; it would be so easy for him to take her away._ _The_ _simple idea made Alaska’s heart feel heavy._  

 _“_ _Must be_ _hard to watch_ _.”_  

 _Aquaria stood by her. Alaska recognized the strands of curly blonde hair similar to Sharon’s at the corner of her eye and the cynical honey-coated voice that characterized her so much. Although Sharon had warned a million times to stay away from her sister, right now whatever she had said before was lost for Alaska._  

 _“_ _I kind of pity you…_ _I can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel when he gets her out_ _,”_ _she_ _added t_ _hen. "_ _I bet he’ll take her to a fancy date_ _the first_ _night… and you’ll be here… rotting. It’s so sad.”_  

 _Alaska ke_ _pt_ _calm. It wasn’t hard to guess exactly what Aquaria wanted to achieve, toying with_ _her_ _head; she was well known for creating chaos for the pure purpose of fun, and by the way her smile swayed from one side of her lips to the other, she was only testing her efforts_ _._  

 _But_ _Alaska wasn’t that easy to break._  

 _“_ _I’m sorry_ _b_ _abygirl_ _, but I_ _disown whatever you think you’re talking about_ _.”_  

 _“And Sharon will enjoy that fancy night,_ _with_ _champagne and_ _food more expensive that your existence here. Do you kno_ _w_ _why?”_ _Aquaria_ _continued_ _,_ _ignor_ _ing_ _her previous words_ _. “_ _Because she doesn’t care about you. Why would she_ _care about a little prison affair?_ _You thought you were special after a little hook up, babe? That’s so cute. And so, so dumb.”_  

 _“You don’t know her,” was all the explanation Alaska bothered to give._  

 _Aquaria raised her hands in false surrender._  

 _“Maybe not, but think about this, baby: I grew up by her side, and I still don’t know her. What makes you think that you know her after a couple of months?”_  

 _And with that, Aquaria turned around, walking quietly back to the common room._  

 _-_  

 _The pounding of steps into the marble floor was all the noise after Alaska’s way through the hallways of the prison._ _She walked, almost running, ignoring the pain that remained on her limbs_ _with only an objective in mind: the cafeteria._  

 _Any convict that crossed her path moved away with no objection. Perhaps the expression in her face_ _and fists tight at her sides_ _gave away a hint that she wasn’t precisely in the mood_ _and as long as the issue didn’t have to do with them, Alaska knew nobody would step in._ _Egoism was a well known protection strategy._  

 _The gates to the cafeteria were wide open. The dinner was just as its point; the room was crowded and peaceful, with women too busy ingesting their food to focus on a very determined Alaska marching to the kitchen, long strands of blonde hair flying behind her head the faster she walked._  

 _Finally, her vision tunneled exactly in what she was looking for_ _: certain figure of fluffy blonde hair sitting beside a chubby ginger woman at the last table._  

 _“Sharon,” she called._  

 _She l_ _ooked up. Her smile didn’t disappear; instead, it grew bigger as her eyes fell on Alaska_ _. She sprung from the metallic bench and walked over to greet her with_ _cruel_ _foreignness._  

 _“_ _Hey_ _,” her voice was soft._ _“I didn’t know you were_ _—_ _”_  

 _It happened to_ _o_ _fast f_ _or the sentence to_ _be_ _finish_ _ed._  

 _Ginger gasped. The women at the tables around froze. Soon the whole room had turned their eyes at the_ _impact_ _._  

 _Afte_ _r her head banged backwards_ _,_ _Sharon_ _stood_ _wordlessly. She took a_ _hand_ _up to_ _her face_ _to_ _palpate_ _the skin_ _around her nose. When she pulled her hand awa_ _y_ _to look at it_ _,_ _dark red liquid was covering_ _the tip of_ _her fingers_ _._  

 _“What the fuck…” she whispered. When she looked up, Alaska was still standing in front of her,_ _breathing heavily_ _. “What's_ _wrong with you?!”_  

 _“You, you are what’s wrong with me!” Alaska hissed even louder._ _She took a second to massage her hand_ _with the other one,_ _numb for the huge pressure she had_ _e_ _xerted_ _on it_ _to fall on Sharon’s face._  

 _She stepped forward and lifted her first one more time, but her arm remained in the air when_ _she realized_ _Sharon wasn’t doing any attempt to_ _hit her back; she_ _backed away with a hand on her nose._  

 _“What are you doing?_ _Fight_ _me!”_  

 _“I’m not fighting you, Alaska_ _!”_  

 _“Why not?”_  

 _“I don’t fucking want to_ _!”_  

 _Ginger jumped_ _out of the table_ _to stand_ _in front of Sharon,_ _gesturing Alaska to stay where she was with a hand._  

 _“Don’t do this_ _.”_  

 _“Back the fuck off_ _, Ginger._ _This is between us,”_ _she_ _spat._  

 _“_ _I don’t_ _care_ _. I’_ _m_ _won’t_ _let_ _you_ _touch her_ _.”_  

 **_Touch_** _her. The word made Alaska’s hand drop to her side_ _, and just like a_ _switch_ _, shut her mind off._ _Her face softened as she blinked slowly, looking around as if suddenly her surroundings were strange._  

 _“What…”_ _she_ _gulped, mindless words being stuttered. “What am I— what?”_  

 _Ginger’s hands reached her arms. Holding her, she_ _sweetly_ _muttered, “_ _Y_ _ou’re gonna be okay_ _, just_ _calm down_ _.”_  

 _Sharon_ _took advantage of_ _the distraction_ _and_ _ran. She stormed out of the cafeteria, whispers already wondering why_ _Coady_ _would run away from a fight, knowing it was her favorite sport._  

 _“Sharon,” Alaska called looking around, but her voice was barely a whisper._ _“Where’s Sharon?”_  

 _“She left,” Ginger explained. The concern in her face was growing as she scanned Alaska up and down. “_ _Here, drink some water._ _You need to slow down.”_  

 _Ginger handed her one of the glasses from the table, which Alaska downed in less than ten seconds and returned abruptly to its place, not minding_ _dropping another glass in the process._  

 _“Nothing to see here!” Ginger yelled, waving away the looks of the convicts around. “Get in your own business!”_  

 _“Fuck, Ginger,”_ _Alaska sighed,_ _rubb_ _ing_ _her temples. "What did I just do?”_  

 _“In summary: you_ _just_ _punched the shit out of_ _Coady_ _,” she laughed, although it was humorless. “Any special reason you were so pissed? Damn, I’ve never seen you like that. We’re lucky any guard was passing by.”_  

 _Although Alaska seemed to think really hard on an answer, she couldn’t bring herself to give one. There was only one thing occupying her mind._  

 _“I need to find her.”_  

 _-_  

 _Sharon sighed heavily. She passed both hands under the running water and ran them through her face, trying to wash any rest of dry blood off of her skin, carefully, since her nose still ached at the slight touch. Judging by her reflection on the moldy mirror, at least it wasn’t as swollen as she thought it was, and there were no bruises following the wound for now._  

 _“That nose has survived a lot, for what I see.”_  

 _Alaska stood at the doorframe, her figure barely lit by the poor lighting of the bathroom. Her voice, although was calm, made Sharon jump in fright, stepping back abruptly with both fists in front of her face for protection._  

 _“Are you here to hit me again?” she sharply inquired, raising a brow._  

 _“What? No,” Alaska sighed. “Of course not. I just want to talk.”_  

 _“You didn’t want to talk a while ago.”_  

 _“It was the drugs, Sharon,” she explained, slowly stepping towards her. Something relaxed in her when Sharon didn’t walk away and lowered her hands instead. “There are these pills the doctors gave to me. I took them in the morning and they— they fucked me up, I don’t know, it was weird. Everything felt so... intense. So out of place... I freaked out and took it on you. I’m sorry. That's all that matters.”_  

 _“_ _Hm… t_ _here’s something else,” Sharon spotted immediately. Her eyes narrowed in suspiciousness. “You’re not telling me everything.”_  

 _“Of fucking curse,” Alaska whispered, laughing reluctantly. She bit down on her lip, doing a long pause before confessing, “I... I saw you. Getting a visit. I saw you getting a visit from the bitch that’s your legal husband. I guess that got in my nerves too.”_  

 _Sharon’s mouth formed a small O, but there was no genuine surprise in it as she nodded._  

 _“I get it now.”_  

 _“It’s just— I don’t know,” she continued, running a hand through her hair as her eyes stayed down, hiding from Sharon’s glare. “I was frustrated. I don’t like him.”_  

 _“Me neither.”_  

 _“It didn’t seem like it,” Alaska s_ _uddenly spat_ _. “You looked very happy back there.”_  

 _“What? You think I was happy to stand his old ass for an hour?” Sharon snorted in annoyance. “I fucking had to, Alaska. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t even know why he came, a guard just told me this morning I had a visit and as you must know, we don’t have a lot of power here, that includes the privilege to reject visits.”_  

 _Alaska nodded, biting her lip. Aquaria’s words were curling into every corner of her mind and she tried her best to repress them. She was a fucking liar, and she had gotten Alaska in this, if she thought of it carefully. It was her fault._  

 _“Of course. I know,” she muttered. “It’s just that I can’t help but think of what would happen if he achieved to get you out of here...”_  

 _After a couple of silent minutes in which Sharon seemed to process her words, she finally let out a breathy laugh, any sign of anger soon dissolving from her face._  

 _“Look at you, getting all jealous,” she mocked, earning a frown from Alaska. “I have to admit, you look very cute right now. I might look forward to get visits more often for that.”_  

 _“It’s not funny, idiot.”_  

 _“Hey, calm down,” Sharon raised her hands pretending to surrender and the image of Aquaria doing the same popped into Alaska’s mind. There was no doubt they were sisters; although something in Sharon’s gesture was softer, amusing. “I’m not going anywhere. Are you satisfied now? That’s what you wanted to hear?”_  

 _“Well, yeah, but…”_ _Alaska’s shoulders fell. “How is that?”_  

 _“Greg is trying to get me an audience for probation, but I’m sure as hell I won’t get it,” Sharon simply explained._  

 _“And why wouldn’t you?”_  

 _“Maybe because I’ve been making trouble since I arrived?” she ironized, smugly raising a brow. “I have a terrible record, and therapy isn’t going any well. That’s enough to keep me here for a couple months more.”_  

 _“Until he tries to get you out again,” Alaska remarked bitterly._  

 _“And by then I’ll have done some stupid shit and the court will say no again. He's not going to get me out, I know that.”_  

 _Alaska sighed._  

 _“You really want to stay here?”_  

 _“Sure,” Sharon shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like I have better places to be.”_  

 _“And what should have a place for you to consider it better than the glamorous state prison of Philadelphia?” Alaska teased. “With its near bathrooms, great menus, clean recreative areas and hospitable rooms?”_  

 _As Sharon burst out laughing, Alaska felt warm spreading on her stomach. Hearing that cackle appear again, and especially knowing this time because of her, felt just right._  

 _“Company,” Sharon replied after a while,_ _seriously although she was_ _still giggling. “I could be anywhere, as fancy as Paris or as shitty as this hellhole, and I would think it’s the best place for me to be if I had you there, with me. I don’t want to leave this place as long as you’re here, Alaska.”_  

 _She leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Sharon’s waist, locking her in a hug that Sharon returned only seconds after, pressing against her body just as tight, Alaska forgot for a second how bad her ribs ached. She buried her face in Sh_ _a_ _ron’s hair, breathing in to enjoy the familiar smell that she had missed all those weeks, closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation of feeling someone else’s heat so close._  

 _“I’m glad to hear that.”_  

 _As insignificant as her little confession felt, it was enough to make Sharon sigh with content against her neck. Alaska felt one of her hands slide up her spine, caressing every long strand of hair as slowly as she could, fingers curling the tips around them as they traveled down._  

 _“But If I left... would you miss me?”_  

 _There was nothing behind her question; no mockery, no stupid teasing. Hiding somewhere in her tone, here was even something that Alaska realized, after a moment, was similar to fear._  

 _“Actually,” Alaska smiled against her hair, “I would. I really would.”_  


	10. Inside the Aura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human mind is so complicated. One day can be perfectly fine, and the other crumble with a slight push.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO oh my fucking god. i was so excited for this chapter. i wanted to write about adore and!!!! finally!!! i hope you like this chapter as much as i do:))))) thanks for reading xoxo

At sharp ten in the morning a black van stopped in front of the Del Rio residence. The driver pulled out immediately, running to open the door to the back seat, where Bianca emerged. She clung to Sam’s arm as they walked to the front door of the mansion, the weak wind of the morning making the tips of her floral, floor-length dress move rhythmically. She was tired, which was more than visible (but would stay there, since she preferred to die before complaining in front of anybody) but the fatigue product of a long trip didn’t stop her from enjoy the recent feeling of calm and content that filled her the past few days. 

“Welcome home,” Sharon hummed once Bianca was close enough to listen, the usual smirk on her lips softening. 

Behind her stood Violet and Pearl, with Alaska at the other side. 

“Thanks, Needles,” Bianca sighed. She took her sunglasses off, revealing huge dark bags under her eyes and handed them to Sam, who took them with no objection so she could look at her  _employees_ for a second. “Seems like we’re having a reunion...” 

“As much as we crave to listen about your trip,” Alaska cut, her head tilting, “We found information that must be discussed immediately. But after that, we’d love to hear about Azusa.” 

Bianca knew Alaska was joking; they never spoke about her trips, especially to Azusa, but she nodded anyways. With no further communication, the five of them made their way down to the meeting room. She noticed a couple of things as they proceeded through the corridors of the mansion; like the fact Violet looked so much better than when she left days ago. She seemed snapped back to life, reactive as never seen before, marching behind Alaska. Bianca made a mental note to remark it out loud later. Of course, she had also noticed the files and papers under Pearl’s arm, pressing against her chest, but desisted to say anything until they all sat at the table, under the single focus of the room. 

“Okay, ladies...” Bianca leaned back on her chair. “What do you have?” 

Pearl began spreading some of the papers out. They were mostly lists with more than fifty names and pictures of different people at Velvet Sky. 

“Sasha Velour is not American. That’s why we can’t find anything about her in any file or virtual archive of the government,” Alaska started plainly. “We believe she’s from Russia.” 

Sharon took one of the lists and flipped it around, also taking a black pen from the table. She wrote  _Things we know about S_ _asha Velour_ as a title. “We know she’s not American. What else?” 

“And we know she’s not physically at Velvet Sky very often,” said Pearl, gaining a nod from Sharon. 

“I spoke to her wife and, well... Sasha seems to be alright; they have a nice house, dogs, they’re subscribed to tons of country clubs, they own a brand new, ecological and very expensive washing machine, they travel to tropical beaches every month,” Sharon held a finger with every subject she counted. “Shea is fascinated with the life they have. I doubt seriously she has something to do with this; she’s convinced all of Sasha’s money comes from the casino.” 

“That’s not good,” Bianca confirmed. 

Violet frowned. “Why not?” 

“Because that means that whatever Sasha hides, she must hide it very well.” 

“Another thing we know,” clearing her throat, Alaska continued. “She’s close with her employees. Agnes Moore is the best example.” 

For a while, the meeting room immersed in silence. As Sharon kept listing, Bianca stared at some point in the wooden table and Pearl and Alaska analyzed papers, Violet stopped for a second to think. 

“I just don’t get it.” 

Pearl lowered the paper in her hands and gave her a concerned look, leaning to her side. 

“What’s wrong, Vi?” 

“Sasha Velour doesn’t sound like the person we thought she was,” she tried to explain. “I mean, she sounds like the perfect person. A great boss, a loving wife, she doesn’t sound like someone who is friends with Dela or someone who buys drugs, who even knows what we do. Why would she want the USB?” 

The silence reigned again. It was only broken by Bianca, who pointed at Violet with a single finger, her red painted nail moving slightly up and down. 

“That’s a very good question, Chachki.” 

“Well, thanks —” she babbled. 

“And I actually think we already have the answer,” Bianca cut her off. A smile creeped to her lips that made everyone move forward to the edge of their chairs. “Do you have a list of the most recent clients of the casino?” 

Pearl nodded fervently, shuffling through some papers until she finally found what Bianca asked for. She handed it to her with trembling hands, which Bianca ignored as she took the list and started to scan it completely. 

“What are you thinking?” Alaska finally asked. “Because I think it’s still a mystery for us.” 

“I’m thinking…” Bianca’s voice trailed off. She stopped right on her tracks, eyes falling on an specific point of the list. 

Bianca remained silent. For a second, her rapt attention was kept on the list, and her lips had stayed slightly parted in something that the other women could only identify as surprise. Finally, she cleared her throat and slammed the paper on the table. 

“Leave.” 

“What?” Pearl choke. 

“I want you to leave,” Bianca stated, looking up. “We’ll return to this later.” 

The four of them seemed startled at the sudden change of task, but nodded along at Bianca’s orders. 

“And what do we do now?” Violet dared to ask. 

“Thunderfuck will go to the cellar. It’s incoming night after all, we don’t want any mistakes with our clients,” she shot a brief look at Alaska. “You and Liaison can go to help. Now leave.” 

The sharp sound of her voice was enough to make Violet and Pearl shook. Alaska pushed herself back on the chair and wordlessly walked out, the two younger women following her suit; they didn’t need further explanation to identify a silent order. 

Sharon was barely doing an attempt to stand when Bianca spoke again. 

“You’ll stay, Needles,” she commanded. Something in her eyes had darkened, something that Sharon felt she wouldn’t like to know. “We need to talk.” 

- 

 _Adore_ _always_ _woke up before the alarm went off. She couldn’t help but being_ _an early bird_ _,_ _even_ _though she perfectly knew that her_ _easy rising was_ _also_ _provoked by_ _the thin sponge_ _over a metal lamina that seemed to hate her_ _since it made her_ _back_ _hurt like a bitch_ _, the_ _infernal cold during the nights and, generally, the fact she was still in prison_ _._  

 _She_ _lied on her back,_ _star_ _ing_ _plainly at the bed above hers_ _. Some minutes passed before the alarm finished and_ _a pair of_ _legs pulled out of the_ _bunk_ _. Al_ _aska_ _jumped to the ground with a long sigh, taking a second to look at_ _Adore_ _._  

 _“Morning,” she hummed. Adore’s response was a simple nod_ _._  

 _It wasn’t something that Alaska seemed to mind; she acknowledged Adore’s lack of_ _a willing conversation and she accepted it with no objection. So Adore waited patiently for her to leave the cell_ _. And just as a_ _beloved routine, Alaska marched_ _out, no bothering to look back again._ _Fair enough._  

 _Mornings were steady: Adore knew exactly what to do. Take a shower, go to the cafeteria to_ _grab some portions of whatever they had_ _, and finally, walk to the administrative area with a satisfied stomach and a clear mind. Since she had arrived to prison her life had become that: a stiff routine. Not like her complaints could change something; she was trapped in a rathole with people that, for her distaste, were worse than her. The least she could do was get used to it, right?_  

 _That morning was no exception._  

 _She walked around the administrative area, directly to the second room of the corridor. After giving a sincere smile to the guard at the door and mentioning her name, she was let in. The room was divided in small cubicles, each of them with a folding chair and a phone in the wall;_ _Adore’s_ _favorite was the last one at the left, because the chair wasn’t so worn off, and she could sit comfortably for the time she was there._  

 _As soon as she closed the door, she quickly dialed the number she had stuck_ _in_ _her memory and placed the phone against her ear._  

 _Several tones passed and there was no answer. Adore started to get impatient; she was never left to wait. Just when she started wondering if something had happened, the awaited voice sounded from the other side of the line._  

 _“Hello?”_  

 _“Hey,” Adore let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Fuck. I was worried. You took so long to answer.”_  

 _“I know, I know,” the voice hummed. “I was busy. How are you?”_  

 _“It’s the same... got no sleep, showered with cold water and ate something that seemed more like a fetus than pasta. What about you?”_  

 _The woman laughed, the sound making Adore smile. She loved being the reason of that laugh._  

 _“I’m sorry to hear that,” she admitted after a while, nostalgia taking over the remains of laugh. “And I’m fine. Just took my morning pills.”_  

 _“Have you been going to your appointments? All of them?” Adore asked, not bothering to hide the worry in her tone. “You know you can’t skip them, babe.”_  

 _“I haven’t skipped any. But Jesus, it’s hard to remember when you’re not here, you used to be like a living calendar for these things,” she half-heartedly joked, but Adore could sense something else in her voice that made her heart sink in her chest. Sorrow. “I... I miss you being around.”_  

 _Adore sighed. “I miss being around as well.”_  

 _“You know that if I could do anything...”_  

 _“You would’ve done it a while ago. I know, but you don’t have to. I’ve said this a million times Bianca; this wasn’t your fault.”_  

 _“But I hate the fact I can’t do anything to make it better,” she confessed._  

 _The line went silent. Adore bit her lip, leaning her back into the wall and closing her eyes. If she focused enough, hearing Bianca’s soft breathing, she could pretend she was by her side._  

 _“Look, I know this is some hard shit, but we’ve gone through worse. Right? I mean, we’ve gone through a lot worse,” she cooed, as sweetly as she could, at the same time she swore. “And we’ve been just fine after that. We’ll find a way. I promise.”_  

 _Silence again._  

 _“How can you be so positive, damn it?” Bianca’s voice was harsh, but Adore could almost feel the smile on her lips._  

 _“Honestly? You motivate me.”_  

 _“Ugh. So cheesy.”_  

 _“Don’t you like it?”_  

 _“Not really,” she teased, making Adore cackle. “Just kidding. I love you. I love you fucking lots.”_  

 _“I love you more. Really. I have to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”_  

 _“Same hour?”_  

 _“That’s right.”_  

 _“I’ll be waiting.”_  

 _Adore smiled, breathing in to prevent her eyes from watering as she placed the phone back at the wall._  

- 

Once a month, it was  _incoming night_. 

Incoming nights were the most important moments at Bianca’s cellar. It was when the gates opened and dozens of trucks, all of near white paint and no plates to identify, entered the building to deliver hundreds and hundreds of plain cardboard boxes that would remain on the main room of the cellar until the next morning, when they would be prepared to be sent to their final destination. The reason why they were so important was simple: any mistake could cost more than anyone would imagine. The packages had to be in perfect conditions, which Bianca’s people knew when they managed the boxes, but the responsibility still fell in the shoulders of whoever Bianca sent to be in charge. This time, being Alaska, Pearl and Violet. Or well, at least that’s what Alaska had made clear when she spoke to the man watching at the entrance. 

Violet and Pearl could fool themselves with the idea that they were played an important role during incoming nights at the cellar, but the truth was evident: their lack of experience was essential, and the humiliation that came with the necessity of following Alaska everywhere was notorious. They watched her walking up and down the building, directing and managing to not shake at the cold glares of Bianca’s people as they obeyed every single order she gave, and maybe pretend they could do the same, even though that was a dream that still remained far away from reality. Still, they shook the sentiment away and stood firmly at the sides of the main gates, old and made of metallic laminas that somehow still managed to look steady enough to be safe. 

Two hours into their shift and only three trucks had entered to unload their charge. It was going to be a calm night, for what Alaska could see. 

“I’ll go to one of the back rooms, I have some stuff to do,” she informed, gaining startled looks from Violet and Pearl. “Could you stay here?” 

“But — we’ve never been alone... here,” Pearl remarked. 

“It’s not that hard,” Alaska assured, grinning. “Just make sure all the boxes are unloaded and no one opens any of them. You’ll be fine.” 

Violet nodded eagerly, almost as if she tried to keep as much information as she could. They saw Alaska walking away to one of the many back rooms, with a black bag she had tucked under her arm since they arrived, her silhouette soon disappearing into the darkness, where the poor lighting of the cellar couldn’t reach. 

“This is great,” she told Pearl, who nodded from the other side of the gates. “If she’s not here, that means we’re technically in charge, right?” 

“That makes sense to me,” Pearl replied, dissolving in giggles that Violet joined right after. 

The rest of the shift went smoothly; the cellar filled steadily as time passed. Truck after truck kept coming, with men and women in dark discreet clothes and a permanent scowl in their faces that thankfully skipped any conversation and directly went to leave their piles of boxes. Actually, the night was so calm, maybe being in charge wasn’t an exciting as they thought. 

“You know what, Pearl...” 

Pearl looked up from the ground, turning at Violet. 

“Yeah?” 

“What do you think happens in Azusa?” 

“Hm?” she titled her head in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“C’mon!” Violet sighed. “Ms. Del Rio goes to Azusa at least once per month, comes back all tired and stressed and we never know why.” 

“We never talk about Azusa,” Pearl said plainly. 

“And haven’t you wondered why? Haven’t you wondered what she does in there?” 

“Not really,” she confessed. “Vi, there are a lot of things that I’ve learnt to ignore in this world, and believe me, it makes things way easier.” 

Violet shrugged. “We could ask Sharon or Alaska.” 

“And do you think, honestly, that they would answer?” Pearl raised a brow. 

“Good point,” she giggled, looking away. “I guess I’m just curious... sometimes I think there are a lot of things that happen around here and no one tells us about them. And who knows, maybe we should know about them.” 

“Well, you can’t know that,” Pearl comforted her with a soft gaze. “Everything happens for a reason, you know?” 

But calm didn’t last that much in Violet and Pearl’s first time being in charge, for their bad luck. 

The raw sound of wheels scraping the ground made Violet’s head whip around. The last truck had just left, and now a shiny red car at an incredibly high speed had made its way to the entrance, stopping only inches away from Pearl’s body. 

As she stumbled to a side, the window rolled down. 

“Ms. Del Rio needs you to get miss Thunderfuck,” a shaken-up Sam spoke, horror decorating his usually steady face. “This is important.” 

- 

Something weird was happening. If Alaska had learnt something in all those years was to trust her gut in all times, and now her gut was telling her something weird had happened earlier when Bianca decided to kick them out of the meeting room with no explanation. 

She gathered every paper she had about Sasha Velour and took them to the cellar with her. Bianca was right; they could return to it later, but it was completely fine if Alaska checked them one more time. So she locked herself in one of the small, dusty rooms that remained forgotten at the back of the cellar, alone with the papers. The lack of furniture in the room wasn’t a problem; she taped the papers to the wall and sat in an old folding chair in front of them. She couldn’t count how much time it had passed and she stayed still, thoughtfully looking through lists of clients of Velvet Sky and the data they had collected not only of Sasha, but of every single person close to her. 

Everything looked exactly the same as it did hours before. The change of time didn’t change her perspective, no matter how hard Alaska tried to convince herself that time helped to refresh her mind, she couldn’t understand what had shocked Bianca so much. Mainly all the information was basic, as for Velvet Sky and Sasha’s personal life. 

Her eyes fell on the list Sharon had made earlier, her distinctive handwriting catching her attention almost immediately. 

 _1\. She’s not American (probably Russian)._  

 _2\. Doesn’t spend a lot of time in Velvet Sky._  

 _3\. Loving wife._  

 _4\. Good friend._  

 _5\. Perfect boss._  

 _6\. Not a criminal (?)._  

Alaska giggled at the last point. She leaned back on the chair and let out a long sigh; it seemed useless. Whatever Bianca had seen, apparently was only visible for her. Rubbing her eyes, Alaska cursed the missing USB just like she had been during for the past days. If that bitch of Dela hadn’t touched what wasn’t hers, if Sasha hadn’t bought it — if Bianca didn’t keep extremely important information in a fucking USB that she kept in the worst place possible that was her purse, nothing of this would’ve happened. Nothing, and they would go back to chasing people around, the good old days that Alaska missed to have, when she didn’t have to search for a stupid USB because her only worry was to find whoever Bianca indicated and get them out of the way. 

Heavy knocks on the door made Alaska growl. She wondered for a second if the person at the other side was strong enough to tear it down or she could simply ignore them to keep fantasizing, but as the knocks only became louder, and knowing that Bianca wouldn’t be happy if she to discovered that, she stood up and walked over to open the door. 

But what stood at the other side was probably the last thing Alaska hoped to see. There she was: breathless, pale as a ghost, with lips moving violently in what Alaska imagined was a nervous tic. After studying Violet’s state, Alaska frowned. 

“Kid, what the fuck?” 

“Something happened,” Violet managed to blurt. Her eyes wandered around the room behind Alaska, stopping at the papers pinned to the wall and the folding chair in front of them. She could’ve asked what they were doing there if she wasn’t still in shock. 

“Okay, calm down and tell me, what happened?” Alaska placed both hands on her shoulders and shook her slightly, forcedly attempting to make her react. “Violet. Listen. What happened?” 

“It’s — it’s Sharon.” 

Alaska’s grip on Violet’s shoulders tightened. 

“What happened to her?” she inquired. Violet’s mouth opened, but a series of nonsense whispers came out instead of words. Alaska shook her again. “Answer me!” 

Violet gulped hard. Her clear eyes seemed lost. “She… she disappeared.” 

- 

Alaska considered herself a calm person. She was quiet and she acknowledged it with no problem. The fact she was hard to disturb was something she actually prided herself on. 

However, as she stormed into the meeting room, pushing through the bodies of two very confused Gia and Alyssa, fists tight at her sides, steps pounding loudly into the floor, those conditions had no space in her mind. She slammed the door so hard even Bianca sitting at the end of the table jumped, closing it behind her so Pearl nor Violet could follow her inside. 

“Thunderfuck —” 

“What the fuck did you just do?” she cut in a sharp hiss. “And be honest.” 

Bianca’s brows raised. She knew exactly what she was talking about; there was no point in trying to play dumb. She nodded, acknowledging surrender, and pursed her lips in disgust. 

“I just — well,” she wavered. “I asked her to stay when you left so we could talk in privacy. I didn’t know she would react like that.” 

She sounded sincere, which Alaska would’ve appreciated — if she wasn’t seeing red. She couldn’t focus on anything else that wasn’t the thought of Sharon being alone somewhere, with her mind clouded with anger and any other stupid feeling that took over Sharon so easily. 

“What did you tell her?” she demanded to know, walking over and placing a firm hand on the table to lean towards Bianca. 

A palette of different expressions passed through Bianca’s face, all of them helping a flash of regret stand out of the severe emotions going over her face for a second before she composed herself, returning to an uncomforting grimace. 

“That doesn’t matter now.” 

“Of course it fucking matters!” Alaska spat into her face. “Sharon fucking left! Whatever you told her made her upset enough to leave just like that! Sam says she didn’t even take her gun or her truck and we know she loves that damned thing. You really think it doesn’t matter?” 

“You’re exaggerating,” Bianca rolled her eyes, but the way her fingers played over the table revealed just how nervous she was. “You said it yourself, she has no gun nor vehicle. What can she do away from here?” 

“I can think of some options and none of them are good.” 

Bianca dismissed her sharp ironic tone with a gesture of her hand. “I’m sure she’ll be back later, when she has calmed.” 

Frustration made every limb of Alaska’s body shake. She pushed back and ran her hands through her hair, cursing under her breath as she pulled of the knots. 

“Sharon won’t calm down,” she assured. “She’s been unstable these days, I have no fucking idea why, but right now she has the mentality of a child and she can explode in any moment. We have to find her. Take some cars, go around the city, whatever. We have to find her before it’s dawn and she gets in trouble.” 

“Are you fucking insane?” Bianca breathed a laugh in disbelief. “I’m not going to waste my time going around the city just because of a tantrum your girlfriend is throwing.” 

Maybe Bianca was right. Maybe Alaska was exaggerating, because Sharon wasn’t a child, and she didn’t need to be taken care of. Maybe she would be back at dawn and she would go and train as she always did and Alaska would see her walking around afterwards, coated in sweat with a big smile on her face. Maybe this situation had taken more importance than it should — and sending people around the city in cars was definitely a waste of time. 

But then again, shaking her head, Alaska decided she didn’t give a fuck about Bianca’s wasting of time — not when it involved Sharon. 

“You don’t get it. You don’t know her like I do. You don’t know what she’s capable of... and if you’re not going to look for her, then I fucking will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's fair and necessary for me to ask you to try and guess what bianca told sharon¿¿¿ i love mystery don't u


	11. Breaking broken hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our past is always ready to haunt us, with the choices we made, or we even thought of doing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! i know it's been five months since i updates this story and i'm deeply sorry. my life's been a fucking mess this year and i could finally get healthier, so i felt ready to continue with this story since i actually liked it.  
> SOOOOO for your consideration, i've brought a new and exciting chapter full of suspense for you! i know that's how you like it ;)  
> AND PLEASE IF YOU LIKE IT DON'T DOUBT TO LEAVE A COMMENT! i'm always craving for validation and i love to read what you think about the story. thanks for reading!

Alaska had remained quiet after she stormed out of the meeting room. Too quiet, spending weirdly long amounts of time locked up in her room, and only opening the door to pick up the food Bianca’s servants brought. Of course, Bianca wasn’t worried; she had better things to do and had left her nonchalant thoughts about the situation very clear. Hell, she hadn’t even sent anyone at the cellar in days. That left Violet and Pearl confused, between a silent war that none of them knew how worked. 

“You think she’s been sleeping?” Violet asked, looking at the cream-colored door. 

“For two days?” Pearl shook her head. “Definitely not.” 

“This is starting to get super weird,” the ebony-haired girl sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “What can we do?” 

“Nothing, I’m afraid. It’s not like we can make Sharon appear out of the blue.” 

They thought their whispers and the fact that it was nearly four a.m. would be the best disguise to their curiosity, but the theory was quickly crashed down when the door opened in a fast motion and a very pissed off Alaska showed up, the hand that wasn’t holding the latch placed on her hip. 

“Get lost,” she groaned, attempting to close the door again. 

“Wait, wait,” Violet rushed to snap out of her shock to lean a hand against the door to keep it open. “Hey, we haven’t seen you in days. We were worried.” 

“Cute,” Alaska deadpanned. “I’ve been busy.” 

“We want to help,” Pearl blurted, soon adding; “With whatever you’re planning to do to find Sharon. We know Ms. Del Rio won’t do anything so we want to help.” 

“Okay, first of all, how did you even know about that?” she questioned, and Violet and Pearl looked at each other, just like kids that had been caught being naughty. “And second, how could you even help?” 

“We... uh, we maybe have put our ears against the door to hear,” Pearl admitted. 

Before Alaska could say something, Violet burst in; “But we can help! With anything, really. Just tell us what you need to be done and it will be done.” 

Alaska took a long moment to answer. She kept eyeing Violet and Pearl, eyes narrowing as she seemed thoughtful enough to make believe the younger girls that they had a chance. It was almost obvious, as a harsh measure: Alaska knew that she had to take the situation directly in her hands, and any help was great, even when it came from two clumsy kids. 

“Okay,” she finally gave in, earning smiles and sighs of relief from the other two. “Since you like to listen conversations through the doors, I want you to find out when is the next time Bianca is going out, and how long will she be out. Am I clear?” 

“Uh... we thought the initial plan was to going out and look for Sharon around the city.” 

The look Violet received was almost scolding her. 

“She must be far from the city by now, if she had kept running, that knowing Sharon, is the most likely thing to happen,” Alaska explained petulantly. “Plus, I have another plan. A better one. And I need Bianca out of the house in order to do it.” 

“Alright,” breathed Pearl. “We trust you. Trust us too.” 

Alaska didn’t dare to say that she already trusted them. 

“Alright.” 

And with that, the door was closed again. 

- 

_The day Violet and Pearl came to the Del Rio residence was... a hell of a day. Bianca didn’t even bother to introduce them, or explaining why were they there. Well, being specific, she didn’t even warn anyone about their arrival. She only gave instructions to treat them properly and feed them as soon as possible since they were staying there. Her servants that had been working there for an eternity, were used to Bianca’s unusual actions, and complied their tasks wordlessly and efficiently._

_However, Sharon had seen more coincidences than anybody else._  

 _“I think we should give them a chance.”_  

 _“And I think you’re out of your mind,” she spat, stopping her rushed walking to turn back at Alaska, firm scowl remaining in her face. “This is bad. This is so fucking bad.”_  

 _“Why?” Alaska scoffed at her anxiety. She had also stopped chasing Sharon, instead leaning her back into the wall of the corridor to get some deserved rest. “They’re just kids.”_  

 _“No, they’re not ‘just kids’, they’re our substitutes_ _. Bianca is doing everything she did with us. She plans to replace us with them_ _.”_  

 _“They are kids, Sharon,” the blonde’s voice became deeper, any bit of fun soon leaving. “They are, at least, sixteen. They cannot be our substitutes. You’re paranoid.”_  

 _“I’m realistic. That’s why Bianca brought them; we’re old and they’re fresh, brand new. It makes completely sense!”_  

_Sharon insisted, but Alaska wouldn’t listen anymore. While she stormed upstairs, swearing under her breath, Alaska decided to head to the living room, where she had heard some noise before. She knew it wasn’t Bianca, being well known that she didn’t spend too much time there, neither did the servants._

_And she was right. As soon as she entered, she was faced with the back of a small, skinny figure, almost completely covered by platinum blonde hair._

_“Hello.”_  

 _The girl turned violently. Even though she had been given sweatpants and a sweater that was probably three sizes bigger, and a filling meal before, she was shaking like a stray dog under the pouring rain, although Alaska couldn’t tell if it was from the slight cold weather of the fact she seemed frightened to death._  

 _“My name is Alaska,” she tried again, walking closer to the girl, who didn’t jump backwards this time. “What’s yours?”_  

 _“Pearl.”_  

 _“Nice name.”_  

 _“Thank you.”_  

 _“Wanna sit down with me, Pearl? Let’s get to know each other.”_  

_Alaska motioned at one of the sofas. She sat, and tapped the space next to her, looking up at the girl with a grin. Pearl nodded erratically a couple of times before following her._

_“How has been your stay so far?”_  

 _“Good.”_  

 _She was shy. Staring at the floor the whole time, she clearly was. But Alaska would find a way to make her talk, that was sure._  

 _“Where are you from?”_  

 _“Atlanta.”_  

 _“Is your friend from Atlanta as well?”_  

 _Pearl’s eyes flew to Alaska. She looked startled._  

 _“What?”_  

 _“Your friend, the skinny one with dark hair...”_  

 _“Violet,” the word came out of her lips weakly. “She’s Violet. And yes, she’s from Atlanta too. We’ve been friends since we were kids.”_  

 _“Aw. Isn’t that nice_ _. I love childhood friendships_ _,” the grin on Alaska’s lips became bigger. “_ _W_ _here did you meet?”_  

 _That was when Pearl seemed to have a deeper problem to answer. She pursed her lips and looked to the window, almost afraid of what was passing through her mind._  

 _“In the orphanage.”_  

 _Her voice was small. Scared. But, and that was something that Alaska couldn’t ignore even if she tried,_ _it_ _sounded sincere._  

 _She didn’t understand how Sharon could’ve compared two kids with them. With them, that were pulled out of a prison to work like dogs, with criminal records that once existed, that were a pair of disgusting liars... with kids._  

 _She didn’t know how to explain the warm sensation spreading across her chest. If Alaska was ever sure of something was that she could trust her gut, and her gut right there told her that those kids were anything but a threat._  

- 

Violet pushed the curtains to a side to see the black van with Sam and Bianca disappear into the trees that surrounded the house as large walls. She turned around and gave Pearl a single solemn nod, that the blonde understood perfectly. 

“There’s no one around the hallways, basement or the kitchen,” Pearl said as she mirrored Violet’s action. 

“I’ll tell Alaska. You keep watching over.” 

As she ran, she confirmed what Pearl said, proceeding with caution through the hallways and stairs that took her to Alaska’s room. Everything was alright, and there was no servant at sight, just like Alaska wanted. Violet knocked on the door three times. 

“Did you checked everything?” a muffed voice asked from the inside. 

“Yes. Every place.” 

“Well done, kid.” 

Alaska finally got out, making sure to close the door after her and doing the same path that Violet had taken to the living room, with her following suit. As they entered, Pearl gave them the same small nod as sign of confirmation. 

“Okay, this is how we’re gonna work: Pearl, watch over the door,” Alaska commanded, and the blonde complied immediately, opening the door only a little to watch through the small space. “Violet, the window. Don’t ever move from there. If someone comes, doesn’t matter who, you need to tell me. Remind me where Bianca is?” 

Pearl turned from the door to answer. “She’s going down town, she told Sam to take some snacks with him because it will take long, so we have time.” 

“Excellent.” 

“May I ask what you’re gonna do?” Violet asked shyly before going into position. “What is so important that no one can know?” 

It was Alaska’s first option to not reply. Yes, she had included them into the attempt of plan she made, but that didn’t mean they would be asking dumb questions. But well, they had obeyed every single one of her orders, and they had found out about Bianca’s whereabouts, and now they were there, with her. They really wanted to help. 

“We need to know what Bianca told Sharon that made her run away. I’m pretty sure that it’s about the information about the casino, papers that Bianca put away after that day, somewhere in her office, which is connected to her room, which is locked with a stupid password of four stupid numbers,” she rolled her eyes. “So I’m gonna call the only person in the world who must know what those numbers are.” 

The explanation, as easy as it seemed for Alaska, took Violet aback. She decided to go to her position watching through the door, her mouth forming a small O. 

Alaska sat on the sofa, next to a little table where the phone was. Said phone was only used for, as Bianca always said,  _innocent_ purposes, so she knew there would be no problem if she used it. She looked at the numbers written in the palm of her hand with blue ink as she dialed them, one by one, before pressing the  _call_ button, and putting it on her ear. 

The other side of the line rang a couple of times. Alaska’s heart was beating so fast it seemed about to pop out of her chest as the rings echoed in her ear. 

“C’mon,” she whispered. “Answer, answer, fucking answer.” 

The rings stopped. Alaska swore loudly, throwing the phone back to its base with a groan that made Pearl jump. She took a moment to let out a heavy sigh and close her eyes, trying her best to control the way her body reacted. 

Violet decided to break the silence. 

“What do we do now? Is there a… plan B or something?” 

“We’ll help in anything,” Pearl reminded. 

Alaska bit harshly into one of her nails, the other fingers trembling, until the only sound in the room was the poor nail finally giving up. She stared at the broken tip for a long moment. 

“Yes, there is a plan B,” Pearl and Violet sighed in relief at her words. “But we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” 

“Why don’t we do it now?” 

“Do you think I want to wait?” she hissed at Pearl, who shook her head fervently. Then, satisfied with the reaction, Alaska leaned back into the couch. “I don’t want to wait, okay? I need to know where Sharon is. It’s just — I’m tired.” 

Her voice became weaker and weaker, until it was just a soft whisper. Violet turned at Pearl, who didn’t know what to do neither. None of them had seen such a delicate facade of Alaska; one that actually seemed exhausted, annoyed, and maybe, if they guessed right… incomplete. 

It made sense; since the girls had arrived, Sharon and Alaska had always been together. Always. Maybe it was more than the simple habit of sharing every moment, maybe it was the comfort they closeness produced. They didn’t know what she felt or what she was thinking being alone. 

“Is this… you know, the first time you two are separated?” Violet asked in the smallest voice, immediately looking down as she regretted it. 

But for her luck, Alaska answered calmly. 

“We’ve been in circumstances that made us consider it before, but it never really happened,” she explained. 

- 

 _Th_ _at_ _day had just started... bad._  

 _Alaska knew something was wrong the moment Willam showed up to her cell. He usually visited_ _her_ _at the end of every month, but that day was the first week of it, and the look he gave Alaska as_ _he_ _approached_ _her was impossible to decipher._

 _“Morning,_ _Honrad_ _,” he said casually, leaning back onto the frame of the entrance of the cell._  

 _“Morning, Belli,” she answered with the same tone. “Is there something I can do for you?”_  

 _Willam sighed. He looked at the interior of the cell, making sure it was completely empty before clicking his tongue._  

 _“Not really. Just came to give you some news.”_  

 _“Okay,” she nodded. Trying to stay calm was truly a challenge, but if she had to admit it, the drugs remaining in her system were a great help. “You’re getting a new and probably not so pathetic job? Because if that’s the case, congrats.”_  

 _“Ha!” Willam let out a dry laugh, but the smile on his lips was somehow genuine. “Actually, not about me. About you.”_  

 _“Even more interesting,” Alaska chuckled. “What is it?”_  

 _He sighed one more time, shrugging. “You lawyer came last week.”_  

 _“What? Michelle was here?” Alaska almost jumped. “Why didn’t she come to see me? If I find out she has another case with some bitch from here_ _—”_  

 _“You’re lucky enough, don’t you think?” Willam cut her off. “She’s trying to get an audience for probation. Next month I think. I’m not pretty sure since couldn’t listen very well, but I brought to you what I thought I should bring.”_  

 _“Oh. Oh,” her shoulders fell and she froze for a second, eyes lost somewhere in Willam’s near blue shirt. “Probation...”_  

 _“Hey, aren’t you happy? Those are amazing news!” he hit her arm softly, almost friendly. “You could actually get out of here.”_  

 _The small soft punch managed to make her snap back to reality, nodding mindlessly to his words. “Yeah, I guess.”_  

 _“Your good behavior finally paid off, huh?”_  

 _“The trial may feel pity for the fact someone beat the shit out of me,” she attempted to joke. She took a hand to rub her face, dragging it across the skin not to_ _o_ _gently. “Or... I don’t know. I need to think. Thanks for the news, though, Will.”_  

 _One of Willam’s brows raised in question, but he remained silent, nodding and walking away instead. He had better things to do anyways, he couldn’t wonder why the news that should have Alaska jumping in joy had her thinking so loud._  

_Hell, she didn’t even know why she wasn’t jumping._

_So she went exactly where she knew she had to go. Her mind seemed to shut off as she walked, passing the hallways and the common room and even further, to the diner room, and even further, to the kitchen. She pushed past the rushed girls that ran from one side to another to get dinner ready to approach the back of the kitchen, the dirty place where the small could kill millions of rats and the simple image would make everyone to question the quality of the food made there... but also the recent favorite place for Ginger to hang out. And win poker games with other convicts that weren’t_ _Katya._

_“And... that makes three out of five!” Ginger exclaimed happily, taking the pot to her side of the table, a small mountain of toothpaste and cigarettes._  

 _The lady sitting in front of her, who Alaska remembered as Jasmine, also laughed._  

 _“That was a good one, I gotta admit. You down for another round?”_  

 _Ginger’s mouth opened, but before any words would come out, her eyes fell on a gaunt figure walking directly between the chaos that was the kitchen before dinner to her. She analyzed Alaska’s eyes, her whole face, and the joy in her body soon faded. Ginger was definitely a very visually smart person, if she could already imagine what was going on._  

_“Maybe later,” she told Jasmine, eyeing her sideways. “I’m busy now, leave.”_

_“What? But we —”_

_“I said later!” Ginger insisted._  

 _Jasmine stood up and walked out without any protest. Just then Ginger could jump out of the short stool and run to Alaska’s side, who only realized she was trembling when Ginger’s hands placed softly below her shoulders._  

 _“_ _Honrad_ _, are you okay? You’re pale as a ghost, girl.”_  

 _“I may get out,” Alaska mumbled._  

_“What was that?”_

_“I may get probation, Ginger,” she looked at her friend_ _with_ _big frightened eyes._  

 _Ginger hesitated for a moment._  

 _“Uh… I don’t understand,” she mumbled_ _but decided to act quickly since Alaska was still shaking. “Here, come sit.”_  

 _She took Alaska to sit to one of the counter of the industrial kitchen. There was a_ _casserole_ _with_ _something_ _that_ _st_ _ank, like rotten vegetables_ _that had been there for a whole month_ _. Ginger just pushed to a side and returned her rapt attention to Alaska, who still looked as lost as she did when she arrived._  

 _“So? You’re gonna tell me what happened or I’ll have to guess?”_  

 _Alaska sighed. She hid her face on her hands as a nervous tic, massaging the skin of her temples in circles._  

 _“My lawyer’s trying to get probation,”_ _she finally explained._ _“She’ll call for an audience next month, at least that’s what Willam said. She’s gonna try to get me out of here.”_  

 _Ginger’s eyes lit up. She shook Alaska by the shoulders, grinning wide._  

 _“_ _Honrad_ _, oh_ _Honrad_ _!” she hummed happily. “_ _Congratulations! Those are wonderful news!”_  

 _The guilt in Alaska’s chest grew more and more, and it threatened to break out of her chest with those words, turning into a horrible monster that would swallow her whole and_ _spit her out_ _when she was nothing more than bones and muscles._  

 _The relief and joy that covered Ginger’s face was soon replaced by a grimace full of horror_ _as she slowly read Alaska’s face_ _, the sides of her mouth twisting downwards as her grip on_ _her_ _shoulders loosened._  

 _“You’re not happy,” Ginger noted then. “What’s wrong? You might have the chance to get out, and I’m sure that with your record they won’t hesitate to say yes. That’s incredible, darling.”_  

 _“No, it’s not.”_  

 _“But — but think of all the things you’ll be able to do! You’re gonna be out!_ _You can get a job, maybe not a very nice one with a criminal record but I’m sure you could get a decent one!”_  

 _Alaska shook her head. “You don’t understand.”_  

 _Although Ginger was a very intuitive person, she had trouble trying to figure everything out, and it wasn’t like Alaska was giving her many hints to support her. But whatever it was, it had to be deep_ _to keep Alaska from enjoying the idea of being a free woman._  

 _Then the imagine appeared in front of Ginger’s eyes: messy blonde hair and a devilish permanent smirk._  

 _“This is about_ _Coady_ _, isn’t it?” she questioned,_ _Alaska’s silence only confirming her theory. “_ _Honrad_ _, I know you feel an intense affection for her, but you can’t decline freedom for her. It’s just not fucking_ _right.”_  

 _Alaska closed her eyes, throwing her head backwards as she let out a groan._  

 _“You still don’t understand.”_  

 _“Explain me, then,” Ginger crossed her arms._  

 _And for the first time, Alaska was able to look her in the eyes. Pure staring, eye to eye revelation of what she felt, of what was going through her tormented mind._  

 _“_ _She_ _declined freedom for me.”_  

 _The first reaction from Ginger was an incredulous snort. “What?”_  

 _“Her husband conv_ _ened an audience for her to get probation based on her poor state of mind but she_ _made sure her record was bad enough for the trial to deny the offer,” Alaska said, slowly, with her eyes still glued to Ginger’s._  

 _The expression on her face was truly enjoyable to watch. It changed from disbelief to_ _the previous horror._  

 _“No…”_  

 _“She stayed here. For me. And she’d do it again if I asked,” Alaska muttered bitterly._ _“How am I supposed to tell her that now I am the one who’s got the chance to get_   _out_ _of here_ _and I’m thinking of taking it_ _?”_

- 

The raw sound of wheels being dragged across the dirt and grass that surrounded the mansion echoed through the room through the open window. Alaska was too busy dialing the same number over and over again, so Violet jumped and ran back to her position, tossing the curtains to a side to watch discreetly. 

“Bianca’s back early,” Alaska noted and placed the phone on its base for good when the call went to voicemail again. “We’ll continue this tomorrow as soon as she leaves the house.” 

“Uh…” Violet remained static at the window. “It’s not her…” 

Alaska frowned. “What do you mean? Who else could it be?” 

“It’s not Ms. Del Rio,” Violet whimpered in panic, turning to face them. Her face was frozen. “It’s not the car she left in.” 

“Let me see,” Pearl almost flew to her side while Alaska waited for an explanation. As soon as she learned to watch, she gasped. “Violet’s right, it’s not her!” 

“Could it be the cops?” Violet’s eyes watered only in seconds, wrapping her arms around herself. 

The main door was knocked. One time, then two, and then three. The knocks weren’t even violent, as they imagined the cops would be; they were patient and, if they had to choose a word, gentle. Even though, the fear was soon thick enough to make the air hard to process in the lungs. Pearl was breathing so heavily the simple sound of her snorting filled the whole room, while Violet tried her best to keep the tears inside her eyes. 

“It’s okay,” Alaska hummed once she stood up, trying to calm them down. “You have any guns with you?” 

Violet whispered a yes. Pearl was still too shocked to answer, but the silhouette of the gun on the pocket of her shorts was clear proof. Alaska placed a hand on her own gun, tucked protectively under the waistband of her jeans, and gestured for them to go closer. They carefully did, just when another three knocks were heard. 

“Stay behind me, okay? And have the guns with you.” 

Both girls nodded. Alaska made her way to the door, walking slowly so they could keep up with her. 

There were another three knocks in a row when they approached the door. Alaska took the latch, so hard her knuckles went white for a moment before she relaxed her grip, another series of knocks making her head clearer and clearer. Her fingers rotated the latch, the sound of it tensing to release the door from the lock being followed by Pearl swallowing loudly. 

There stood a woman, with other three women standing loyally behind her. She threw the small black umbrella that protected her from the afternoon sun to the hands of one of her companions to reveal herself completely, smiling as her presence was acknowledged. 

The only motion in Alaska’s body was the heavy beating of her heart. 

“Is that how you greet an old friend, Lasky? Come here, give me a hug!” 

That was worse than the cops. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> characters coming back? YES. WE ARE BACK AT IT.


End file.
